


Kissed by an Angel

by greeneyedlover13



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Dreams, Heterochromia!Eren, M/M, Split Personalities, Student Eren, Teacher Levi, emotional kissing between two dummies with a lot of conflicting feelings, modern Eren, ok you should read the manga first before reading this, past Eren, strong eremin friendship feels, two Erens/one body
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-19 14:06:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1472569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeneyedlover13/pseuds/greeneyedlover13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Eren could remember, he's had dreams about a version of himself that he can't help but recognize. He dreams of giants and war, but also of people he can never remember when he wakes up. No matter how hard he tries. Eren doesn't really have friends because of the fact that he's more wrapped up in the idea of the people in his dreams than real people in the day life. Senior year, at a new school, things change. His dreams get more detailed. He remembers more. He recognizes people in his dreams, and sees them in his classes and hallways. Eren soon realizes he isn't crazy, and wonders if anyone else has experienced the same dreams. Specifically his creative writing teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In my dreams, both of my eyes are green. I’d pass by a mirror or window and see my reflection; me, but not really. My hair was shorter, cut unevenly along my neck, like my hair was hacked off with a rusty kitchen knife. My face younger, more rounded in my cheeks. If I had to guess, I was around fifteen in my dreams because the shape of my face there resembled the pictures of me when I was that age. My face looked younger, but my eyes were always stony. I’d stop by my reflection, perplexed by the deep sadness I’d see behind the color of my eyes. I didn’t find it strange that I had two green eyes, it felt normal. More normal than, in real life, having one green eye and the other a deep gold.

When I was younger, my mother told me I was kissed by an angel on my right eye. My gold eye. Back then, that explained to me why I have this random golden eye. No one in my family has eyes that color. My green eye looked exactly like my mother’s. I remember crying to her after one particular hard day of preschool (kids were fucking animals—not saying I wasn’t but still) because the other boys in my class ganged up on me. They called me a freak. They called me a show off. The boys were upset that none of the girls wanted to do that bullshit chase around the playground thing with them because the girls were always flocking to me. To my “pretty pretty” eyes.

I sobbed into Mom’s shoulder, asking why she couldn’t make me with two green eyes. I didn’t want two gold ones because I wanted my mother’s eyes, not a stranger’s eyes. I had my dreams back then, too, about a version of myself with two green eyes, with a normal face, though with an expression I haven’t worn before yet.

“Eren, my sweet baby, Eren. You’re special. Your eyes are beautiful, green and gold. Do you wanna know why you have this?” she stroked the skin under my right eye. “Because you were kissed by an angel. They saw you, knew you were special and the angels wanted you to see the world differently from other people. They gave you sight in your beautiful gold eye, to see things no one can.”

I remembered I rubbed my cheeks, collecting the wetness from my tears, looking up at my mother like she herself was an angel. She was beautiful. She was warm and safe and knew exactly what to say to get me to shut the hell up and stop crying.

“Really?” 

She chuckled, pressing a kiss to my forehead, then my cheek, then my nose. I pulled away from her lips, grumbling. Big boys don’t need so many kisses from their mothers, she knew that! “Yes, really.”

“I can see things you can’t?” I asked, suddenly excited by the concept of seeing invisible things. Like fairies, or hidden passageways or… “Can I see monsters?”

Mom nuzzled her nose into my hair and shook her head. “No. The angels gave you the sight to see all things beautiful.”

She doesn’t know that she lied to me then.

I’ve always had these dreams. The dreams where I was older, then the same age, then now where I’m older than my dream self. My dream self with the raging glare and same colored eyes. It was a stranger, but I knew him way too well. Sometimes during day hours I’d feel him in the back of my head or the tip of my tongue. I’d say things I normally wouldn't say.

A common phrase landed me in my first guidance session when I was seven. “Kill them. Kill them all.”

I said it in my sleep during class, freaking everyone out at my table. I was awaken by forceful nudging by my teacher. He had a look between fear and concern on his face, a face no one should wear reacting to a small child. I didn’t remember saying anything until I got home to find my mother waiting for me.

I didn’t know who ‘them’ was until I turned ten. I was afraid to sleep after I found out. They were horrible. Giant. Some pudgy, some bony. All had sharp teeth and eyes that probed my skin to the point where I wanted to scrub my skin off with bleach. One particularly bigger than the others. A wall broke. People died. I watched with my two green eyes as my mother was picked up from under the house I lived in and broke in half by the hands of a long haired giant who looked overly excited to chew on my mother.

I held my mother for hours after that night. I cried. My father was concerned. My mother was frightened. She didn’t understand what I was saying. I don’t remember much, but I know somewhere in my terrified state I mumbled, “I didn’t save you. I didn’t save you.”

I started to see a high paying therapist a week later.

My therapist assigned me drugs, a lot of drugs. Drugs that said would help but did nothing. My dreams were different, I was older. My insides were hot and cold at the same time. I could feel my chest and how I felt nothing in it, then suddenly I would become so overwhelmingly hot I’d wake from my dreams panting and sweating before I could even figure out why I suddenly became so hot.

I didn’t find out for a couple years. I guess my mind wasn't ready to handle whatever it was. When I found out, I was right. I screamed the loudest I’ve ever screamed when I woke up from that dream. My eyes were wide open and facing the darkness of my room, but all I saw was my reflection I caught when I stood fifteen meters high, with teeth lined up high along my cheeks and swinging hair in my eyes.

I was one of them. A monster.

Maybe my dreams are what my mother called ‘the sight’. I see things other people don’t. I understand things other children my age shouldn’t, like death, starvation, the will to fight to stay alive, love…

I always forget his face. I don’t ever remember his name. I don’t remember anyone in my dreams, though I know I have two best friends. I think it’s a girl and a boy. The boy with unnaturally yellow hair and a girl with a red scarf. A scarf I know I gave her. Those set of dreams were intense to say the least.

I asked my mom if she thought I was capable of murdering someone. She responded the way any other mother would, hysterical and concerned for her child. When I just stood there, waiting for her to answer, she then wrapped her arms around me.

“You’re too gentle. Too kind.”

In the day life, that statement was correct. But in my dreams…

“The world is cruel, Eren.”

I knew my mother would flip shit if I ever repeated that to her, so I never did. I know the girl in the red scarf told me that. I can hear her voice echo in my ears, whispering the words, then shouting them. She doesn’t yell at me a lot in my dreams. The blond boy doesn’t either. Their presence calms me, if anything. It’s too bad I can never remember their faces. Or their goddamn names.

I’m eighteen now, and I still have these dreams with faceless people I, in real life, hold dear to my heart. I grew up with these people. They’re my friends, but not. It’s hard living a double life because I would catch myself turning to tell something I found interesting to the blond haired boy, or I’d find myself scrubbing my bathroom floor a little too hard because I know Corporal would kick my ass if I didn’t.

Then I’d remember there was no yellow haired boy. There was no Corporal.

I’ve stopped telling my parents about my dreams. As far as they know, my dreams stopped when I was sixteen. I was sick of the sessions, I was sick of the goddamn drugs that did nothing but make me tired and irritable. I lived my double life in my head, alone. I fought and cried and lived with people who didn’t exist. 

I read somewhere that your brain can’t make up faces. If a face you don’t know appears in your dreams, you didn’t make them up. You probably saw their face at the grocery store or in the car next to you or on the cover of a magazine. It sounds real, but.

Corporal was beautiful. I don’t remember the details, but I know I find him elegantly beautiful. Too beautiful for me to see on a fucking magazine and not stare at the picture. If I’ve seen Corporal in real life, I wouldn’t have forgotten the experience of seeing him in the flesh. My body reacts to the thought of him, regrettably. It’s because of my dreams about Corporal that I started looking at men instead of women when I reached puberty. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for in men, because I couldn’t remember specific details of the man in my dreams, but I looked for them anyway.

I’d stop sometimes if I saw black hair or dark bags under someone’s eyes. Sometimes I’d be mesmerized by the slope of someone’s throat that looked so goddamn familiar, but not exactly. I tried countless times, waking up and reaching for the sketchbook on my night stand, trying to get down the faces of these people who I hold so dear to me, but don’t exist at all. I’d get almond shaped, almost black eyes for the girl in the red scarf, a small, slightly upturned nose for the boy with yellow hair, I’d get a long face and mean looking eyes for a boy who I didn’t like so much in my dreams. I would draw as fast as I could before the details faded away, leaving me with a half-assed sketch of someone my mind created.

For Corporal, it’d be the same thing. Heavy dark eyes and a pointed chin. I threw in some black hair, framing the outline of a face I made up, and decided it looked okay. I think any other color wouldn’t match the intense glare of Corporal’s eyes.

And that’s where I am now. Sitting in my bed, my eyes half closed from a restless, terror dream filled sleep, sketching another pair of emotionless eyes on a sheet of paper with six other pairs of the same thing. Over time (three years to guess) my drawing of the same pair of eyes have gotten better, more sharp and confident with the lines, my shading around the squinted eyelids and dark smudges of bags more exact and accurate. I have three sketch books dedicated to my dream doodling, and this sketchbook holds the more impressive sketches.

I chew on the eraser, staring at the eyes staring up at me. The dream I just woke up from was less bloody and terrifying compared to most. The only people were Corporal and myself. Usually when I have dreams like that, Corporal’s eyes hold more emotion, more care. Not this time. They were serious. Serious eyes to match a serious conversation.

“Don’t get yourself killed, you shitty brat. Quit being so goddamn reckless all the time. I don’t know what I’d do if you got killed.” His voice had dropped an octave at the last sentence. He looked uncomfortable saying it, but I guess he thought it was necessary to say out loud.

I sigh heavily, my body starting to wake up more the longer I sit up and stare so intently at the paper. His face is gone. His voice too. I’m left with nothing but the fluttering of my chest, the sweating of my palms, and a pair of eyes that I can’t seem to get exactly right.

 

****

 

My new room is colder than my old one. It also has no windows. I can't say that disturbes me, because I sleep in a dungeon in my dreams. My room is kinda like a dungeon, just with light yellow walls and unpacked boxed littering in the corners. We’ve been in here for two weeks and I have yet to unpack. I can't do it today because…

First day of school. First day of senior year. First day at my new school, Trost High School. The name ‘Trost’ sounded familiar to me when Mom first mentioned it, but it could just be familiar because I heard it on the news or something. Trost gets a lot of recognition because it’s super fancy and rich, resulting in genius based kids and class A teachers that always get interviewed. I can't help but be nervous. I mean, I’m not stupid, but I’m not straight A material.

Dad is already gone when I walk out into the kitchen. Mom is standing by the oven. I can't help but smile and shake my head fondly at her back. She fucking loves her new kitchen. Because of a raise Dad got, we were able to move out of our half shitty apartment and get a real house two districts over. We have a front yard and a mailbox. Dad was pretty excited about the freaking mailbox because he always lost the key to our slot. It became my job to hold the key and get the mail when I was thirteen. 

I can smell eggs from the stove and walk up behind Mom, looking over her shoulder. Scrambled eggs. The way I like them.

“I thought you should have a good breakfast before your first day.” Mom said, pushing around the eggs.

“I appreciate that. Today’s gonna be hard.” 

She turns around and places a hand on my right cheek, stroking the skin under my gold eye. She always does that. “I know, baby. I’m sorry you can’t spend senior years with your friends at school.” She looks sad. I don't like it. I've never liked it. My mother is never allowed to be sad.

“It’s not that, I promise. I wasn’t really close with anyone there anyway.” I don't tell her that’s because I’m fonder of the people in my dreams than of the people I know in real life. “I’m just nervous I’m going to get lost or something. Trost is a big ass school.”

Mom cracks a smile and pats my cheek. “Can’t disagree with you on that. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She turns back around and slides the eggs onto a plate before handing me my breakfast.

I take it and sit at the table, watching her clean up. “Is Dad out on a business trip?” Damn these eggs are much appreciated. 

She sighs, wiping a wet cloth along the counter. “Yeah. He’ll be gone for either three days or seven days. Depends on how his first meeting goes.”

“That sucks,” I mumble around a mouth full of food.

“Yeah. He left really early this morning. He told me to tell you good luck and such.” She smiles at the clean stove and counter and comes to sit with me at the little table.

“I’ll need it.” I finish my food with one big shovel and push the plate away, looking at the clock on the microwave. I should be leaving if I don’t want to be late.

Standing up and putting the plate in the sink, “I should get going.”

I lean over and kiss Mom’s cheek. She leans in with a small smile. “I can’t believe my baby is starting his last year of high school.”

“If you would have let me start school when I was supposed to, it’d be my first day of college.” I say, shouldering my bag and grabbing my car keys from the key peg.

“You were a troubled child, Eren Jaeger!” Mom teases from her seat.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know. Later, Mom!” I shut the door and walk to my car. My car in our driveway. It feels better walking to my car here than from across the apartment complex lot.

It didn’t take me long to get to Trost. I actually was fairly early as I pull into the student parking lot, only a few cars are parked here and there. I climb out of my shitty Civic and walk to the main entrance. I got my schedule and school information last week at a meeting the school has for new kids. It was a tour and it was led by the principal. The fucking beautiful ass, Captain America lookalike principal.

Mom was practically swooning every time Mr. Smith opened his mouth during the tour.

Chuckling a little at the memory, I reach the front door. I quickly opened the door and is about to walk through when I hear a shout.

“Oi! Can you hold the door?” 

I look behind my shoulder and see three boxes stacked on top each other with legs. Then I see the curb that the person the pair of legs belong to doesn't notice. Leaving the door behind, I goddamn near head dive to catch the falling boxes.

“Shit!” The voice behind the boxed exclaims.

I land on my knees pretty roughly, but I manage to catch the box that was on top. The middle one, however, is laying on the sidewalk, open and its guts scattered out.

“Hey, are you okay, kid?” The voice said again.

I look up from the fallen box and see eyes that send a chill down my spine. They are a stormy gray and are outline with heavy eyeliner. Honestly, it looks fucking great. I know if I ever tried to put on eyeliner I’d look like a sad excuse for a drag queen.

Another thing I notice is the guy in front of me is short. Like I'm almost in eye level with his chin and I'm on my knees. He still has the bottom box in his hands, but I can see black pants and a white button down behind it. His arms are pretty big. You know, for a guy so short. His hair an inky black that hangs half over his face and I think I can see an undercut. I can't help but be impressed. Most people can’t pull off that style.

“Hey, brat. Didn’t anyone ever tell you staring is rude?” His voice brings me back. He's staring at me like I'm stupid, which I guess I am. I am on my fucking knees admiring the beauty of this person while they're trying to see if I'm hurt.

Get it together, Jaeger.

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I’m sorry. And, um, no. I’m not hurt. Though I can’t say the same about that box.” I tilt my head in the direction of the fallen box.

Short guy looks down and tsks at the box. “Damn. Well, at least the important stuff is in this one,” he tightens his hold on the box in his hands. Then he looks back at me. His eyes are slightly wider than they were before. When he speaks, I can hear a slight hitch in his tone, “But anyway, thanks for saving that one.”

I get up from my knees quickly and look down at him, though his eyes make me feel he's looking down at me. They are pretty intense. “No problem. Here, I'll get the other one.”

He doesn't argue as I place the box in my hands on top of his and bend down to get the other one in order. I pick up notebooks and folders that were dumped from the box off the ground and—as neatly as I can—place them back in the box. When everything is done, I stand up and meet his eyes.

“Thanks, brat. If you could just give me that and open the door, that’d be freaking dandy.” His eyes won't meet mine.

“Are you sure you can handle that?” I ask before I can think about it.

He narrows his eyes, finally looking at me. “Yes I can fucking handle it. Give me the damn box and open the door.” His voice is chipped and demanding. Another chill rolls down my spine.

“Yes, sir.” I place the box with the others and turn to open the door. I hold it open for him and he walks pass me, without uttering a thanks, and disappears around a corner.

Making friends already, Jaeger? I jeer to myself. I quickly walk into the school, avoiding the bodies of the other students as they suddenly appear from the parking lot. I work my way through the walls and find my locker among the senior locker bay. Not knowing what I really need for classes, I just grab four notebooks and a pencil. The hallway is growing rapidly in volume and I avoid eye contact with the other seniors in the bay. I can feel some curious eyes on me, but that doesn't stop me. I’ve always been nervous in hallways, so I’ll stop to look at other people when I’m seated safely in my first period class. Which was PreCalculus. Fuck.

No one's in the classroom except the teacher and a boy with really long, blond hair, which is pulled into a graceful looking ponytail that drapes over his slender shoulder. His nose is in a big book and he's seated toward the front. I usually sit in the middle, easy cruising and everything, so I take a sit a couple desks behind the blond kid. I look at the teacher and think how she's fairly pretty. Her shoulder length strawberry blonde hair probably the most enduring thing about her. She's currently typing away at her computer on her desk in the back of the room.

The room is quiet, save from the voices drifting in from the hallway.

“Are you new here?” A small voice asks from the front of the room.

I look up and see the blond turned in his sit, looking at me with a huge pair of blue eyes, his long blond eyelashes casting shadows on his pointed cheek boys. His voice might be gentle and small, but his face screamed man. It's all sharp curves, pointed and curved strongly at his chin and jaw.

“Yeah.” I answer. 

“Are you a senior?” he asks, turning more in his seat to look more fully at me.

“Yeah,” I answer again. I'm trying to be curt, but that’s all I can think to say.

“Oh, that must be hard.”

He sounds sad for me and I don't like it. Something in my gut tells me that even though this boy looks strong, his interior doesn't exactly match up with his exterior. I speak up, wanting to talk to him. “Not really. Trost seems like an amazing school.”

The boy smiles a gentle smile, looking at me thoughtfully. “It is. There’s really good teachers and the students here are really into school spirit.”

“That’s cool.” A couple girls walks into the room and sits near me. I take notice the blonde ones does a double take on me. I choose to ignore it, because what is it other than curiosity? “What’s the mascot again?”

“The titans,” the boy answer. 

You’ve got to be shitting me.

The boy’s eyebrows pinches. “Why do you say that?”

My eyes widen. “Did I say that out loud?”

The blond laughs and I hear a small giggle from the girls near me. I turned my head and see the blonde girl, who has a distinctly hooked nose, and a black haired girl with loose pigtails. They are both looking at me, though the black haired girl is looking at me what was only to be explained with interest. The blonde girl just looks bored.

“Yeah, you did. Does titans mean anything to you?” The blond boy asks. I turn my attention back to him. A hint of a smile curveds at his lips, but I somehow know he isn't laughing at me.

I smile back, despite myself, “I guess you could say that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any mistakes. I'll edit this tomorrow. I just wanted to get the second chapter down and officially introduce Levi now. I hope you enjoy!

His name is Armin Arlert. The blond haired boy. When class starts the teacher, Ms. Ral I think, makes everyone stand up and introduce themselves. It seems sort of ridiculous because it appears like everyone already knows everyone. Each student is supposed to say their names and something interesting about them. A guy with a buzz cut sitting in the back of the class says the names of everyone before they even stand up. He even tells the class an interesting fact about the girl with the high pony that sits next to him. Ms. Ral doesn't seem that annoyed, she actually looks like she anticipated this from the Mr. Buzz Cut. I soon find out his name is Connie. 

Weird name for a boy, if you ask me.

“Okay, last student. New kid from what I can tell.” Ms. Ral smiles down at me and I can feel all eyes on me. I look back at her, avoiding the probing eyes from the other students. I watch Ms. Ral’s face light up. “Oh! Heterochormia!”

“Hetero-whata what?” Connie asks from the back of the room rather loudly. I figure maybe the guy only has one volume: loud.

“He has different colord eyes!” Ral walks down the row and stops next to me, staring at my face all nonchalantly. 

Yeah okay, keep staring at the things that make me a freak.

“They’re quite beautiful.” She smiles kindly. I can't help but smile back, though it is a bit forced. “Oh! I’m sorry. Your name and interesting fact?” She turns and walks back out to the front of the class. The more she walks away, the more I want to shrink in on myself. I could have pretended the whole class was looking at her, but now I know they’re all looking at me.

I clear my throat. “I’m Eren Jaeger.”

The kind smile is still on Ms. Ral’s face. “German?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“You know the German word for ‘hunter’ is Jäger.” She informs me.

“I did, and that’s my interesting fact.”

The girl with the high ponytail next to Connie, I’m ninety-five percent confident her name is Sasha, whines, “That doesn’t count. That’s an interesting fact about your name. Not you!”

My eyes drift to Armin when I see him nod in agreement. 

“Lay off, Potato Girl. What if he’s nervous,” the hooked nose girl, Annie, said monotonously.

“I’m not nervous,” I half whisper, half snap.

“That happened two years ago!” Sasha cries at the same time. 

Ms. Ral giggles. “My, my. Interesting year it is going to be. Luckily I had some of you previous years or I’d probably want to rip my hair out,” she teases, looking toward the back where Connie and Sasha sit.

“You cut me deep, Petra.” Connie jokes heartedly.

Ms. Ral exhales deeply. “Springer, you know not to call me that.”

Connie and Ms. Ral go back and forth and it seems like I am forgotten. I exhale a shaking sigh and try to let go of all my nerves. It isn't so bad, but I feel a bit left out when almost the whole class laughs with Connie while he teases the pretty, young math teacher. The only ones not laughing are Annie and Armin. Who is looking at me.

I meet his eyes and he bares a small grin for me, like he's apologizing for the lack of maturity levels in the room. A small chill runs down my spine and goosebumps appear on my arms and hands. 

What the hell? When did it get so cold?

I smile back at him and decide I'm going to befriend him.

Which isn't necessarily hard. I walk into my third period, which is Physics, and see him sitting in the front row again. I think about doing what I always do and sit in the middle, but I did make it my personal goal to make him my friend. A friend I’ll actually enjoy being around instead of friends I had at my last school that I just used to convince myself I wasn’t alone and obsessed with the people in my head.

“Can I sit here,” I ask him, pointing to the empty sit next to him. The rest of the room is pretty empty, so I hope that said something to him. I'm choosing to sit next to him.

He smiles up brightly at me. That makes me feel really warm and cold at the same time for some reason. “Yes! Or we could move back? I noticed you took a middle sit in PreCalc…” he trails off, unsure.

I laugh nervously, “No, no. It’s good. Science isn’t my strong point, so sitting in the front will probably help with my concentration.” I sit next to him and drum my fingers against the wood of the table, watching other students come in. Sasha from PreCalc comes in, sadly without Connie and I daresay she looks a little lost, a freckled boy from my second period, European History, comes in and I try my hardest to remember his name. I don't have to.

“Hey, Armin. Can I sit with you?” the freckled boy asks the blond next to me.

Armin smiles up at the other boy, though not as brightly compared to smile he gave me, “Sure, Marco.”

Ahhhhh, Marco. Now I remember. He was sitting with a guy I declared a douchebag five minutes within hearing him talk. Marco seemed nice though. At least from where I sat.

Marco looks at me, confused, then realization smooths his furrowed brows. “Eren, right? You’re the new kid with the sick eyes.”

“Where did you hear that?” No one mentioned my eyes last period because we didn’t do that bullshit “Let me tell you about myself” thing.

Marco takes a seat next to Armin and leans around to look at me. Armin’s face is back in his book, content with ignoring us. “News travels fast. I think my friend told me that the Creative Writing teacher was talking about a kid with two different colored eyes.”

I narrow my eyebrows. “Creative Writing teacher?”

“Mr. Ackerman. His class is pretty popular, though mostly for the girls. They think he’s gook-looking.” Marco explains coolly.

“I think I have his class… Why would he be talking about my eyes?”

Marco shrugs and so does Armin, proving that he’s listening. “Beats me.”

“Oh.” I say, not really sure what else to say.

Is a teacher, like, stalking me in the hallways or something? 

I zone out and return to watching people filter in the class while Marco and Armin talk about their summers. They seem like good friends, but not close. I wonder who Armin’s best friend is.

A woman walks in through the door wearing a lab coat and a pair of goggles on her head. I don't have enough time to ask Armin what the hell was up with that before, “GOOD MORNING PHYSICS FAMILY!”

Almost everyone, myself included, jumps at the volume of her voice. I stare at the strange—maybe—woman standing in the front of the room. I must have a horrified look on my face because Armin leans over to whisper in my ear. “Get used to it. Hanji is really passionate about science.”

I turn to look at him. “Hanji?” I ask. What kind the hell kind of name is that?

“Yes?” An excited voice said in front of me.

I fucking jump again. Armin hides a laugh behind a cough. I turn my gaze from him and face the creature in front of me. She's smiling widely, her teeth shining in the yellowed, classroom lights, as she regards me whole-heartedly.

“Are you Eren? New Eren?” She shouts. Then she looks me in the eyes and I’m not sure how she doesn't explode from all the blood rushing to her face. “Yes! You are! Look at you! Your eyes are so beautiful! Oh my! Do you know the statistics of being a heterochormia? Exceedingly low! Extraordinary!” She leans in closer to look me in the face. I kind of feel like vomiting. “Oh, Mr. Ackerman was not lying! Truly stunning!”

“Um,” I open my mouth then close it. A couple times actually. I have no idea what to say to get this woman out of my face.

I didn’t have to say anything. Hanji’s eyes leave me and zero in on another victim. “Bertholt! Your sweating condition not getting any better?” A few snickers sound around the room. I turn in my seat and see tall sweaty brunet two rows back who must be Bertholt. He was stumbling over his words to answer our teacher. Hanji walks over to the unfortunate boy, leaving me staring after her, truly scared for my life.

The two boys next to me chuckle. “You look seriously terrified.” Armin giggles to me, his face open and actually really joyful looking.

Marco leans behind Armin to come closer to my face so he can whisper. “Good. You should.”

I turn to Armin. “I thought you said this place had good teachers.”

Armin shrugs and tries to hide a smile with his hand. “Yeah. There are a lot of really good teachers. Then there’s Hanji.”

“Don’t forget Mr. Ackerman.” Marco pipes in.

Armin looks over to Marco. “Never had him.”

Marco rubs his temples, his face in mock pain. “You lucky soul.”

I open my mouth to ask about the infamous Creative Writing teacher but is cut off when Hanji sprints to the front of the room and jumps up onto her desk, turning in the air to land on her butt. She faces us with a triumph smile and crosses her legs.

“Welcome back, Physics family! I assume your summers were filled with scientific fun! I know mine was! You wouldn’t believe the things I got Mr. Ackerman to do!” She laughs wholeheartedly and even slaps her knee at the memory of her summer.

“What did you make him do?” Someone asks from across the room. I notice he has really big—kind of impressive—blond sideburns.

Hanji tsks and waves her finger in the air. “I don’t think discussing it would be school appropriate.” Then she laughs again, seeming unable to hold in her giggles.

Most of the class groans and whines that they wanted to know. I turn and watch Armin gaze fondly at Hanji, maybe even a little with admiration.

“Well, anywho! For newcomers and not old students of mine, I’m Ms. Zoe! But really I’d prefer if you’d call me Hanji. We’re a Physics family, so I’ll treat you like my family! Just don’t tell Principal Smith, okay? He’d chew my ass if he found out I ignored him again.” She smiles at the class and swings her crossed legs over the edge. 

Over the next forty-five minutes, I couldn't really make up my mind if I liked her or not. She definitely is not boring. Not in the slightest. Between conversations, Armin told me that Physics was Hanji’s tamest class. She also taught Anatomy, Forensic Science, and Zoology. He also informed me that the adjacent room from us was stocked with dead animals and human ligaments and such for Hanji’s other classes.

“She likes to dissect things.” Armin had said like it was no big deal. 

When class let out, I follow Armin to the locker bay where he has to get a folder for an upcoming class of his. He doesn't seem to mind at all that I'm following him. Actually, he seems to be over the moon. When he talks to me he always has a smile on his face and when I talk to him, he listens with an open face and is always ready to ask questions. When I watch him bend down to unlock his locker—he is unfortunate enough to have a bottom locker—I see that he has a small, upturned nose. The goosebumps that I’ve been having all day make another appearance. 

I wonder if I’m getting a cold. I haven’t been sleeping well lately, but that’s always been the case. I feel fine otherwise.

Ignoring the weird feeling crawling up my spine, I check my schedule to see what the rest of my classes are.

Fifth period I have History of Sociology, then lunch. After lunch I have Creative Writing, then study hall. Armin tells me that study hall for seniors is basically a free period because seniors don't have to sit with the other classes for the bell, but have the option to sit in the cafeteria or sit in in a different room.

I'm kind of nervous to get to Creative Writing. Because one: it is my English credit and I suck at all my English classes. I chose Creative Writing because it sounded easiest and really, all the senior English classes sounded easy but the word ‘creative’ made my decision because really, you can’t fail creativity. 

Reason number two why I'm nervous is because I’ve heard so much about the teacher. Mr. Ackerman. And the fact that he’s been telling other students and teachers about my eyes. How he even knows my name, I don’t have a goddamn clue. I really want to go to him and ask what the hell is up with him gossiping about me, but Marco quickly shoots down that notion. 

“Do not. I repeat, do not get on Mr. Ackerman’s bad side. He will give you two Friday night schools if you leave a mess and don’t clean up. He is not someone you can dick around with.”

Armin never had him, but he knows the rumors so he nods along with Marco.

When lunch rolls around, I face the worst thing a new kid has to face. Where in the world should I sit in the goddamn cafeteria? The room is filling up quickly and there I am, standing by the lunch lines holding my lunch like a loser, looking around for somewhere to sit. I see some familiar faces, but I don't want to intrude.

I manage to spot a fairly empty table near the back corner when I hear my name being yelled. 

“Eren! Hey, Eren! You can sit with us!”

I turn my head at the girl's voice and see the girl from my first class with the black ponytails waving her hand at me. I want to say her name is Tina, but I could be wrong.

I see that she's sitting next to Marco, who's looking at me with an honest, kind face. “Yeah, Eren, come on over!”

I shuffle over hastily to the two people who actually wants to sit with me and put down my tray across from Marco before sitting down. I look at the two open faces looking back at me and smile nervously. “Thanks.”

Maybe Tina smiles back, but I notice a light blush in her cheeks. Oh God.

“We couldn’t let you sit alone on your first day.” Maybe Tina says.

“Mina’s right,” Marco agrees. Oh, okay, Maybe Tina is Mina. Got it. “It’s not the Trost way.” Marco says deeply, his voice dropping low and trying to sound insightful.

“How many times do I have to tell you? You don’t sound like Principal America.” A voice cracks from behind me.

A body drops beside me and I glance over to see a long face. Ugh. It was the declared douche of second period. He notices me looking at him.

“Whatcha looking at, pretty eyes.” He jeers. 

I know it sounds like a compliment but I know he's mocking me. This douche.

“Nothing much, horseface. Really,” I look him up and down, “absolutely nothing.”

Horseface narrow his eyes at me and a flush settles across his cheeks. Mina and Marco laugh, either at what I said or Horseface’s reaction.

Marco’s chuckling settles down, “Jean, don’t go making things hard for the new kid.”

Jean’s head whips to look at Marco. “Did you hear what this prick said? He said I have nothing! We all know I’m the best-looking guy here.”

Mina rolls her eyes and Marco shakes his head, smiling.

“Don’t lie to the new kid. We all know I’m the hottest.” A deep voice rumbles behind me. Goddamn, they just keep coming.

A big body plants itself on my other side and a familiar looking brunet sits on Marco’s other side. It takes me a second to recognize him as the guy who sweats a lot.

“Please,” Jean scoffs, peeling open his sandwich wrapper, “I’m elegantly tall and slender, whereas you’re thick as hell and probably really stupid. Wait, I take that back. I know you’re really stupid.”

“Suck it, Kirschtein.” The muscular blond guy next to me said. He turns his head toward me and I notice his eyes were really pointed. As I looked at him, a sudden chill ran down my spine again. 

Seriously, what the hell?

“The name’s Reiner.” The stocky blond introduces. 

“Oh, I’m Eren.” I said.

“I know, Bert over here told me earlier he almost was skipped out on Hanji’s teasing because of you.” He tilts his head to the brunet who is—not shockingly by this point—sweating.

“I’ll try harder next time,” I said, though I know there’s no chance in hell I’ll throw myself at Hanji so she can ignore Bertlholt’s sweating problem. Though, the half relieved, half thankful smile from the boy is nice.

“Aw, that’s nice, Eren.” Mina said. I turn to her and see Annie sitting next to her, picking her nachos with probing fingers. She looks up at me and raises an eyebrow in welcoming.

“He’s not nice. You guys neglect the fact he just insulted me!” Jean whines.

I sigh heavily. “And I’ll do it again, horse.”

Reiner gags on his food and starts laughing. Marco looks torn between laughing and calming Jean down. Even Annie cracks a small half smile.

A big hand slaps me on the back and the wind is knocked out of me. “I like you, dude! What’s your next class?”

“Creative Writing,” I answer, smiling inwardly at all the positive—besides Jean—attention I was getting.

Next to me, Jean groans. 

“You have it too, don’t you Jean?” Marco asks with an amused smile.

Jean makes a face at the freckled boy, but doesn't seem too upset with Marco’s teasing.

“Don’t try anything smart in there, newbie. He’ll skin you alive,” Reiner mumbles around a huge bite of burrito. I have to hold back a laugh at the disgusted face Bertlholt tries to hide from his friend.

“You know, all day I’ve heard shit about this teacher. He’s beautiful, he’s crazy. Which one is it?” 

“He’s a beautiful madman,” Annie speaks up. Mina nods in agreement. 

“I think he’s gay, actually.” Reiner pronounces.

“Reiner,” Bertlholt warns nervously, looking around like the teacher could be around any corner, listening to our conversation.

Marco points a finger at the blond. “Don’t go spreading rumors!”

“I’m not! I think it’s real! I see him and Smith out and about some weekends. They look super cozy with each other!”

“Cozy like you and Bertl?” Jean smirks.

Bertlholt wrinkles his face and looks like he wants to disappear from the embarrassment. A few droplets of sweat are running down his cheeks.

Reiner just laughs. “What me and Bertl have is true love. Don’t we, honey?” He turns to the blushing brunet.

“Shut up, idiot.” He mutters behind his hands.

I can't help but laugh at that.

“God you guys are so ga—Oh god! There she is!” Jean suddenly exclaims. Confused by his sudden tone, I look to where he's gawking at and I'm pretty sure Jean is looking at a girl. A girl with long inky black hair and dark eyes. She looks Asian, though I'm not sure she's full Asian or not. She's wearing black shorts and a loose red shirt. I can see her talking to someone, I don’t know who, and her face remains emotionless throughout her whole conversation.

Another motherfucking chill tumbles down my back, almost violently this time, and I’m starting to think I’m really getting sick.

“Is it Mikasa?” Marco asks Jean, not even turning around and still probably knowing the answer.

Jean’s face is a flushed pink and, honestly, for some reason all I want to do is beat the blush off his face. He shouldn’t be looking at her like that. Why it irritates me so much, I don’t know, but Horseface better stop ogling her.

Thankfully she walks away a second later.

Jean sighs, “Yeah. God, she looks even more beautiful than last year” He sounds goddamn dreamy.

“Gay,” Annie speaks up again.

Jean spatters, “What? Why? How is that gay? I’m just admiring her beauty and body and silky looking hair…”

“Gay,” Reiner, Annie, and myself all say at once.

Jean flips us all off and returns to his food, ignoring everyone the rest of lunch except Marco.

Lunch ends pretty quickly after that. Though I don’t particularly like him, I follow Jean to the Creative Writing room. We talk about mindless shit he brings up and I only half listen to the conversation. I'm kind of bummed that Armin wasn't in our lunch.

I cut Jean off. “Do you know Armin Arlert?” I ask.

Jean looks peeved but answers me anyway, “Yeah, why?”

“Do you know what lunch he’s in?”

“He’s actually in ours, but he hangs out at the library a lot.”

My mood lifts slightly.

Jean turns into the room that is our next class and I follow him. I stop almost as soon as I enter the room, taking in the structure of the room. A big wooden desk sits front and center in front of the dry erase boards. The surface of the huge desk looks tidy as hell and nothing looks out of place, even fucking pencils and pens have their place. On the board behind the desk, in big sharp, pointed letters, “Mr. Ackerman” is written. The only way I can explain the handwriting is dangerous. Around the huge desk, with at least a foot of space between them, all of the desks are in a semi-circle, all facing what can only be the teacher’s desk.

And seated at the huge desk is the beautiful short guy from this morning.

Jean strolls around the desks and chooses one of the two opening seats left. The seat that isn't directly in front of Mr. Ackerman’s desk. 

Wow, okay.

I take a deep breath and sit down in the last remaining seat. The class is made up of fifteen kids. I can see some familiar faces from earlier in the day and see Annie, too, sitting next to Jean. Jean looks at me and raises an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Ah, so you’re in the hot seat.” The voice coming from the front of the room breaks any side conversations. I look away from Jean and see Mr. Ackerman looking at me, his hands folded and resting on the surface of his desk.

“Uh, yes?” I can only assume he's talking to me.

Mr. Ackerman smirks, though I see little humor in his expression. He stands up smoothly and walks around the corners of his desk to rest his butt against the front of his desk, facing all of us. His gaze slides over every student and keeps his face neutral. I look him up and down and still can't get over how short this guy is. 

Or how goddamn beautiful.

“Welcome, you lazy shits, to Creative Writing. I know why you choose this class. Senior year, you don’t want to do any real work in a real English class. I get it. But if you brats think you can bullshit this class and still except to pass, then you should get the hell out now while you can.”

No one moves. I think I'm too stunned to breathe. Can a teacher really talk like that at school? Then I remember my eccentric Physics teacher and figure a little cursing isn’t that strange.

“No one? Impressive. Well, for those of you who don’t know,” he starts, having a tone in his voice that is clearly saying that not knowing him was stupid of you, “I’m Mr. Ackerman. If you ever call me by my first name, like Springer tried to do earlier today, then I’ll skin you alive, got it?”

“Yes, sir” was mumbled around the room. I just nod, not trusting my voice.

While looking at the man in front of the room more freely, more intently, and listening to his voice, I am suddenly so uneasy. My skin is crawling and a hallow pit in my stomach opens up. I stare at the man talking in the front of the classroom and I feel the overwhelming need to tackle him. His skin looks so pale and white, so unblemished and I can't shake the feeling that that feels wrong, untrue. He seems like the kind of man who’d have scars on his body. Battle scars of some sort, not smooth skin that shows almost no personality. 

I want to touch him, as easy as that.

His presence reminds me of Corporal’s presence. The air around him almost vibrates with the same buzz I feel when I dream about Corporal. This man demands respect like I know Corporal does. I can’t ever remember what Corporal looks like, but I remember how he makes me feel, and it’s very similar to how I’m feeling now.

I’m vaguely aware that my fellow classmates are announcing their names. I barely hear the fact they have to tact on the end of that. All I can think about right now is Corporal. Corporal and Mr. Ackerman who have the same air around them and—wow—really similar eyes…

“Oi, brat.” A sharp voice is directed toward me.

I don’t even think before I answer, “I apologize, Corporal.”

The room is silent and my face is so hot I could fry a goddamn egg on it.

“I-I’m sorry! That was w-weird. I didn’t mean to--.”

“Eren Jaeger, right?” He asks. I look at him in the face and it's like a hard slab of stone. Showing nothing.

“Yes?” I hate myself because of how shaky my voice is.

“Get the hell out of my classroom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so... Physics family? Yeah, I have to go through that everyday. I based Hanji off my real Physics teacher who actually does that shit. It just helped that my teacher acts like Hanji a little.
> 
> Can I just say I really love Armin in this?
> 
> also if you want to, like, follow me on tumblr or anything that'd be hella cool. so..  
> greeneyedskank.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

I blink once. Then twice. The room is so quiet I can't even hear the person next to me breathe. It seems everyone is holding their breaths, which is probably wise. Mr. Ackerman is looking at me with eyes that could turn a man to stone. I wonder if he’s a descendant of Medusa, if she ever existed. I wouldn’t be so shocked if snakes start popping out of his head. My eyes leave the intimidating man in front of me and quickly flicker to the corner Jean and Annie are sitting in. Jean is nursing a small smirk, it grows when we make eye contact. Annie doesn't look bored for once. She seems intrigued.

I return my eyes to the man a second later. “Um, sorry?” 

“Did I ask for an apology? No, I told you to get out of my classroom, you little brat.” His voice reminds me of cracked ice, cold and rugged.

“Why, sir?” I ask, kind of terrorized. 

“Because no one wants to hear about your perverted fantasies, you shit.” He regards me disinterestedly and tsks at the face I'm wearing. I'm staring at him wide eyed, my mouth hanging open a tiny bit. I can't help it, though.

My teacher just called me a pervert after knowing me for, like, five seconds.

“I-I wasn’t…” I trail off, biting my tongue in embarrassment. Soft chuckling comes from my classmates around me. I glance back to Jean and see him damn near trying not to piss himself. His long ass face red with held in laughter. Annie is looking at him neutrally and rolls her eyes.

“You weren’t what? Listen, kid, I don’t need a horny bastard child throwing their sexual illusions at me.” The sadistic teacher smiles cruelly at that.

I probably resemble a fish right now. I can feel my mouth opening and closing, searching for something—anything—to say to get me out of this. The fact that my teacher thinks I'm having kinky, dirty thoughts about him makes my insides twist uncomfortably. I know I can't deny that he's beautiful. I also can't deny that he reminds me of the man from my dreams, who I have been dreaming about almost all my life and unwillingly grown to care for and probably yearn for, but Mr. Ackerman isn't him. No one is him because Corporal is just a projection of my mind. He’s mine in every way, but not. 

I know that the man in front of me doesn’t know anything about Corporal, but the fact that he proclaims my attitude about Corporal is dirty and perverted--which is true, but only like ten percent of the time-- left me a smidge angry. 

That little spec of anger was all it took. 

Something unwantedly familiar bubbles up inside me. A feeling I know, but try to conceal. I can feel myself slipping away. I can feel the me I live with during the day lose control and the Eren I know in my dreams take ahold. I start to panic. That version of myself isn’t me; I would never even think of uttering these words in a million years, but the Eren Jaeger in my dreams, the Eren who turns himself into a monster and has all of humanity riding on his shoulders, has a little more attitude and an enormous amount more of bravery than I do.

“Really?” My voice sounds different, sharper, deeper, “Then why have you been talking about me all day? About my eyes? I saved you this morning, the least you could do is let me look.”

Everyone in the room gasps at once, minus our teacher and myself. My eyes never waver from Mr. Ackerman’s and I know it isn’t me who’s looking at him. Who’s challenging him. All I want to do right now is leave this classroom and hope he forgets the earlier slip of the tongue by tomorrow and be all good and fucking dandy. But my body won’t listen. I sit up straighter and square my shoulders. Then—oh god oh god oh god—I throw the shockingly stunned teacher a smug smirk.

Then, as quickly as he came, he was gone. I gasp silently and my confident body shrinks into the curled ball I somehow manage at my desk. The spec of anger I had towards the man now gone and replaced with fear. My eyes are as wide as they can get and I look around the room, frightfully. Every face in the room is looking at me, some with shock, some with impressed twinkles in their eyes, but the majority wear a face someone would wear when they see a baby cow about to be slaughtered.

I am that baby cow.

The silence intensifies and I don't want to look up at the man, who I can feel radiating with anger, in front of me. But I do anyway. Before our eyes meet, I see his face show nothing except the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. Then our eyes meet and for a half second—no for less than a half second—I think I see something other than rage in the stormy orbs. 

Then they hardened to endless coals of anger and I punch myself inwardly for thinking I saw anything other than fury. The silence is interrupted with hard clicks on the floor. I don't have to look down to know that it is the heels of his boots on the hard floor. I'm afraid to look away from the moving teacher, who's coming closer and stopping at my desk and—oh shit—leaning down on his hands to get right in my face.

It doesn't surprise me when a chill runs down my spine.

“Do you want get expelled? If you do, I’ll gladly get your annoying ass kicked out of here. I don’t know who you think you are, but shitty brats like you do not talk to me like that. And I don’t know what you’ve been fed today, some bullshit about me talking about you and your eyes like they’re the coming of the second Jesus Christ, but I informed only Hanji of it, and that was to tell her she had a real freak show to dissect now.” 

“Y-you can’t talk to me like that,” my voice is small. I continue to shrink more into myself. But in the midst of all this, I can't deny he smells attractive. Clean and like morning dew.

He leans in even closer until his nose is about two inches from mine. When he speaks, I can feel his breath frame my face. “I can do whatever the hell I want. Know why, brat? Because I’m the goddamn Corporal of this class.” His lips curl up, but don't each his seemingly dead eyes. “Now, either get the hell out of my class or I’ll get you expelled.”

He straightens up then and watches me silently as I hurriedly gather my things and practically jump up from my seat and to the door. As I am closing the door I hear him snap, “Wipe those shitty expressions off your ugly faces, brats,” to the rest of the class. I close the door as quickly as I can, not wanting the small man to get on me about another thing.

After the door is closed and I'm holding my notebooks and pencil, I look out around the hallway. All of the doors are closed but I hear some muffling of some teachers who are talking loud enough. My insides are still all twisted up and my knees are really starting to get shaky. I have a killer headache. I can practically hear the other Eren yelling at me to get back in the classroom and tell Mr. Ackerman off.

“Shut up,” I grumble painfully. My back connects with the cool wall next to the door to the Creative Writing room and I slide down as gracefully as I can manage. Which isn't a lot. My legs give out on me halfway through and I land on my butt with a hard jolt.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

Everything about me is hurting. There's a pounding in my head and a throbbing in the meat of my thumb, which isn't too weird. Ever since I was little my hand would throb and start to ache if I was stressed or felt threatened. The only explanation I have for this is my dreams. Everything somehow comes back to my dreams. I know I bite my thumb a lot, I know that it’s my dream self’s way of fighting back and taking some goddamn control of his life back, but I don't have a way out. I don't have a mechanism that makes me stronger and more willingly to fight. All I have in the day life is a headache and a throbbing in my thumb that leaves me feeling empty.

It’s never been this bad before. I’ve always been able to lock the night Eren away. Most of the time he doesn’t show up, most of the time it’s just me in my head. The way it should fucking be. The last time he came out I was little and didn’t know what was happening. He was quickly shoved back in when I had a panic attack. I sometimes feel him—myself? I shake my head, utterly confused with myself. I told one therapist when I was little about the other Eren, thinking it was completely normal that there’s almost like two people in our minds. I didn’t ever tell anyone else when she wanted me tested and wanted to put me in giant tube that took pictures of my brain. 

I am crazy. There was no sugar coating it. 

I inhale sharply at the hammering in my temples that must be the other Eren. I can feel his heart—my heart—thumping wildly, excited over something and pissed off over something else. So many inflicting emotions are searing through me and my stomach flips on itself.

I hold a hand to my mouth and almost push the small amount of vomit back in. My first day of school doesn’t require me to empty my stomach on the marble floor outside the classroom of a teacher who hates me. If I had to guess, Mr. Ackerman would probably make me lick up my emptied stomach if I ever upchucked around him.

My eyes start to prickle, feeling heavy with what could only be tears. 

“Why here? Why now?” I whisper to myself. I rub my temples and try to sooth the pain. I completely block out the rest of the world as I rub sanity back into my head. Slowly, but surely, my mind empties and I take full control. The pulse behind my eyes disappear and they dry up. Other Eren is gone and it’s just me.

I let out a relieve sigh and open my eyes back to the world around me.

A girl is crouched down in front of me, staring at me with wide, dark, almond eyes. My heartbeat spikes when I jump, surprised by the closeness of her body. How I didn’t feel someone so close to me, I don't know. I know I was fighting a battle inside my mind, but I couldn’t be completely away from the physical world, right?

When after about a minute and the girl still hasn’t said anything, I shift uncomfortably. By this point she’s leaning forward, almost over me and I’m shrinking on myself, trying to get away from her probing eyes, which seems to be taking in every single detail of my face. I see her eyes zero in on my right one. Her eyebrows furrow deeply and her lips shape words. Her breath coming and going in fast gusts, her exhales blowing across my nose and cheeks.

“How long have you been there?” I suddenly ask, breaking the silence with my hesitant voice. My body feels uneasy with her so close to me, but a part of my mind—my own mind—feels comfortable with her so close. A small part, but it is certainly there. As my eyes follow the long strands of her black hair, she suddenly looks familiar. 

She's the girl horseface Jean was swooning over during lunch. The Asian girl with long pretty, black hair. I rake my brain for a name. Mickey, maybe? Probably not.

“Is your name Mickey?” I ask anyway. Not knowing her name is killing me.

The girl jerks back, inhaling sharply. Her face falls and her wide eyes glisten under the yellow hall lights. She has pretty stormy eyes. Darker than the monster teacher’s eyes. But with unshed tears, her eyes look unfamiliar. I don’t know why, but I get a feeling this girl isn’t someone who cries easily.

Why is she crying because I don’t know her name?

“Oh! I’m sorry. I’m new here. I apologize that I don’t know your name.” I make sure my voice is soft, though it's a little shaky from my own inflicting emotions swirling in my stomach from the aftermath of my meltdown earlier. 

“Mikasa,” the girl whispers softly. 

Not knowing what to say, because she still hasn’t answered my first question I lamely say, “Pretty name.” She just stares at me. “I’m Eren.” 

“Eren,” she repeats softly. When the single word falls from her lips, an almost violent shudder shakes my body. I notice her body is shaking slightly, too.

I decide to ask her again. “How long have you been there?”

“About a minute before you opened your eyes,” Mikasa said softly. Her eyes never leave my face and I see her hands shaking a little. When I meet her eyes, I am staggered to see anger in the glassy spheres. “Did he do anything to you?” Her voice is suddenly frigid. The hairs on my arms stand erect. 

“Who,” I ask confused.

Mikasa’s cold eyes flicker to Mr. Ackerman’s door then back to me.

“What, Mr. Ackerman?”

She nods stiffly.

“Well, h-he kicked me out. B-but I kind of deserved it.” I hate that I stutter, but she look deadly scary. What is up with the goddamn people here?

“That short bastard.” She snaps to no one.

My pulse picks up, scared for her safety. “Y-you shouldn’t call him that!”

She looks at me with narrowed eyes and a purse in her lips. “I can call him whatever I want. He’s my cousin.”

“You’re related to Mr. Ackerman?”

“Unfortunately.” She holds out her hand to me. “Mikasa Ackerman,” she officially introduces herself. I can't stop myself from thinking how unlucky of her that she has to share a name with the demon shorty. 

I grab her hand and with her help I'm heaved up to my feet. I stumble a bit, a lot of blood rushing out of my head leaving me dizzy and uncoordinated. I feel her other hand grip my arm and I can't help but feel secure. Safe.

I smile at her softly when my dizzy trip is over. “Thanks.” I squeeze her hand, “Eren Jaeger.”

“I know.” 

My eyebrows furrow in bewilderment. 

“You and your eyes are pretty popular today,” she explains.

“Jesus Christ, it’s like no one here knows about heterochromia.” I huff annoyed.

Mikasa’s lips curve up into an almost smile. “It might be a big school, but there’s not a lot of people here. We all grew up together. I think you’re the first one to transfer into our class.”

We both lean against the wall, her arms crossed and mine holding my stuff. I hug them to my chest and look over to her. “Well, everyone here has been kind of sickly nice to me. Well, except this guy with a horseface, Jean. He’s a major dick.”

Mikasa’s laugh bounce down the empty hall.

“He’s, like, obsessed with you, you know.” I laugh with her.

“Trust me, I know.” She rolls her eyes but the menacing air around her is gone.

The conversation stops, but it doesn't feel awkward. I'm looking at my feet and I can feel her watching me. Though she seems a bit weird and pushy, I feel comfortable around her, almost like I'm assured nothing bad is going to happen to me if she's around.

She breaks the silence, “Why did he kick you out?”

She was obviously referring to Mr. Ackerman.

“Because I called him Corporal,” I tell her the truth. She doesn't seem like the kind of person to gossip. Also, I have a feeling today’s episode is going to be everywhere anyway by tomorrow because of stupid Jean in there. That kid is cruisin’ for a goddamn bruisin’.

Her reaction isn't what I expect. I think I expected some sort of laughter and teasing. What I get is the complete opposite. She pushes herself off the wall with a loud gasp and moves to stand in front of me. Her eyes wide again, filled with something I can't place.

“Why? What do you remember?!” Her voice escalates in volume. She holds out her hands and it looks like she's about to grab my face, but she quickly puts them down.

I push back more into the wall, trying to get more room between us. “What? Remember?” I spatter confusingly.

Mikasa opens her mouth to say something when the door next to us opens and an annoyed voice speaks out. “Jaeger, you better pray you have a good enough reason for disrupting my class.”

I inhale deeply and looke wide-eyed at Mikasa. She reacts immediately to my reaction. She turns to the source of the voice.

“Levi, what the hell?” Her voice is deep, threatening. 

Mr. Ackerman steps out of the classroom and I can see some confusion in his brow. Then he sees us and his expression throws me off. He looks terrified. “Mikasa?”

“Why are you treating Eren like this?” Her voice shots out. She blindly reaches for my shoulder and squeezes. Mr. Ackerman’s—Levi’s—eyes follows and they narrow considerably at the contact. The fear is replace with outright ferocity. 

“Mikasa,” his voice is soft but packed enough punch that it could kill anyone with a weak heart, “get your hands off him and get into this classroom.”

“Levi--!” She begins but is roughly interrupted. Levi lungs speedily to her and grabs the hand that isn't on my shoulder. He pulls harshly, it doesn't seem Mikasa is strong enough to resist because her body falls onto Levi’s. He stumbles a bit at her added weight but stays on his feet. He looks over her shoulder, into my eyes.

I know my eyes are wide right now. I know I probably look like a deer in headlights. Levi doesn't react at all to my expression when he icily says, “Don’t you dare fucking move.”

Then the door shuts with a loud smack. Leaving me weak in the knees once again. Blood rushes in my ears and I stare at the closed door, afraid to move. 

Was Levi going to come out here and tell me off again? Was I going to be chewed out for being too loud even though it was Mikasa yelling near the end of it? I know I’m not going to tell Levi that, I wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that, no matter that they’re related. Mr. Ackerman is fucking scary to anyone.

I stand there for a whole minute, terrified that Levi is going to walk out that door with a look ready to kill when I hear heavy footsteps around the corner. I turn my head in the direction, then look away, wanting to hide my face from the newcomer. I don’t want anyone to see me red-faced and on the verge of angry, confused tears.

The footsteps turn the corner and come straight toward me. I push myself against the wall and hope whoever it is just looks over me and continues to go their merry way, but the footsteps stop. Almost right in front of me.

“Eren Jaeger?” A strong voice shatters the fragile silence.

I look up from the floor and turn to meet emotionless blue eyes. Blue eyes that belong to the principal of the school, Mr. Smith.

“Mr. Jaeger, if you could follow me to my office, I would like to have a word with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone asked what my schedule is for posting new chapters and I just want to answer and say I don't know! I'm still on the buzz of writing a new story! I'm sure when I lose it I'll pick a certain day to post new chapters, but by then I'm not sure. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! I love Mikasa and everything about her. I thought it was funny of me for Eren to think her name was Mickey because that's my mom's nickname. *pats self on the back*
> 
> Next chapter is going to be interesting...


	4. Chapter 4

My feet seem to be glued in place as I stare at the man in front of me. He’s looking at me with deep blue eyes that display nothing of what he’s thinking. His sharp, angular face relaxed, a careless expression that was disrupted by the lift of one of his big—though elegantly shaped—eyebrows. He was watching me, waiting for me to emerge from my nervous shell I had tightly bound around me. My eyes glanced to Levi’s door, somewhat angrily. He called the goddamn principal on me and it was my first day here and I’m ninety-eight percent certain my mom is going to kick my ass when I get home.

“I-I,” I close my mouth, slightly embarrassed at my stuttering. I start over, “Why am I in trouble?” I hated that my voice sounded small, fearful, but I couldn’t help it. I might be tall—well taller than most people—but the man in front of me towered over me like he was a New York skyscraper and I was a lego building. He was intimidating in every way and I don’t know how I didn’t notice this when I first met him. 

Principal Smith was hands down the most attractive man I’ve seen in real life. As a teenage male who’s somewhat confused over his sexuality—because really, who decides they like men because they have reoccurring dreams about a man that makes your heart flutter and your mouth dry, but can’t seem to remember their face and name after you wake up?—Principal Smith quickly answered the question if I really found men attractive and left no room for discussion.

Speaking of my sexuality, he smiled a gentle smile at me and I forced myself not to blush.

“No, you’re not in trouble. Mr. Ackerman did call me about a disturbance, but through his whining and snapping I made the conclusion that it wasn’t you. First days are hard for teachers too,” he laughed softly, his eyes crinkling a bit.

“Then why do I have to go to your office?” I ask, still sure I was in trouble. 

Smith offered me another small smile, his eyes slowly warming up, though with something other than kindness and tenderness. He was looking at me like Mikasa was when I emerged from my head. Hopeful, maybe.

“Maybe because I want to see how my new student is enjoying his first day, you know, before…” he chuckled in the direction of Levi’s door. “There’s never been a lot of transfers before, I want to know an outsider’s opinion of Trost.” He nodded once at me then turned on his heel, walking away confidently, like he knew I was going to follow him. Which I did, did I even have a choice?

I look at the way Smith was holding his chin high and his hands clamped together behind his back. Nope, I didn’t have a choice at all.

All the halls we walked down to his office were empty and quiet. He didn’t try to make small talk, so neither did I, but that was because I’m still really sure I’m in trouble and I don’t want to annoy him further. I followed him to the main offices near the front entrance and through the threshold to his office, making sure not to accidentally graze him as he held the door open for me.

I look around his office and declare it boring in two seconds flat. His desk was huge, bigger than Levi’s, made with a dark, almost black, wood. It matched the dark carpet and contrasted well with the white walls. The only personal touches I saw were two small pots filled with roses and little figurines of men in helmets loitering the desk and empty space of the bookshelves in the corner. I hesitantly reach a hand out and run a finger along the muscular arm of one of the action figures.

“Titans.” I hear behind me.

I inhale sharply and snatch my finger back. I look up and watch Smith walk around to his desk chair and sit. “Please,” he gestures to the black leather seat facing him, “sit.”

I sat in the chair and my butt was immediately sucked in. I tried to wiggle to reclaim my butt, but nothing worked. I stop struggling when I hear Smith laughing at me. I look up and blush, embarrassed that I was acting like a ten year old when I’m a legal goddamn adult.

“Titans,” he said again. Smith leaned his head down and rested it on his two hands, watching my face intently.

The word made my skin crawl, but I tried not to show it.

“Sir?” I ask.

“Titans were the rulers before the gods, in Greek mythology. They had control over everything, everyone. They were the strongest of beings and took anything to their liking. According to myth, they didn’t take too kindly on humans. Some were even said to feast on human flesh.” Smith spoke. His voice filled the room, each word a stab in me. He noticed my uneasiness. “Do you have a problem with titans?”

I looked away from his eyes and looked at the figurines on his desk. There were five of them, all in action poses. I scanned each for all their details. All they were were old men dressed in skirts and helmets, some holding swords, others holding spiked weapons. 

I know the truth though. Well, if you count the imagination of an eighteen year old boy the truth. A titan’s only weapon is its teeth and they do not wear skirts. 

I couldn’t help but ask, “Do you think titans looked like this, sir?”

Smith threaded his fingers together and lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

I swallow. I’m looking at him, but I don’t really see him. Imagines of giant fleshy human-like creatures flash across my mind. The faces that haunt my dreams, the only faces that I remember. A violent shudder trembles down my body.

“J-just, I don’t think, if titans existed, they would look like this. Romanized, I mean. When I think of deities bigger than gods who feasted on flesh, I don’t imagine the image of a hero.” I gesture to the figurines, “I picture monsters; bloody, cruelly smiling monsters.” My voice was soft and I was looking at the hands folded in my lap. This was the first time I really ever explained the monsters from my dreams to someone. I was afraid to look at him. He’s probably looking at me the way all my therapists did: like I was coo coo for coco puffs.

“Interesting theory, Mr. Jaeger. Do you have any proof behind that statement?” he asks. Something in his voice makes me look up at him. Both his eyebrows are raised and he’s looking unblinkingly at my face, waiting for my answer. 

I don’t see any judgment or worry.

“N-no theory. Just a hunch,” I said, hoping he didn’t notice the quiver in my speech.

Smith didn’t say anything in return. He continued to lean his head against his hands and just look at me. I could feel his steel blue eyes scan every inch of my hands, trying to look deeper in me. I felt hot under his eyes—and not in the good way—but cold in my stomach. I’ve seen blue eyes like that before. I’ve seen blue eyes look at me like that before. I just can’t recall.

In fact, now that I really think about—and the fact that I’m in a small room with him helped too—I’ve felt a presence like Smith’s before. A presence full of power and authority, intimidation but reassuring. This man gave off the presence of a leader who would go no bounds to win the final battle.

Now if only I could remember where I’ve felt this charisma from…

A loud bark-like laugh pulled me from my thoughts. Smith’s head was thrown back in laughter and his board shoulders were shaking.

“Are you laughing at me, sir?” I couldn’t help the small ounce of annoyance in my tone.

Smith waved a hand, “No, no. It’s just, I believe you!”

I blinked. “You believe me, sir?”

Smith nodded and smiled at me, “Yes! I believe that titans don’t look like this either.” He picked up one of the action figures in front of him and examined it. “I believe that titans are hideous monsters as well.”

I flinched at the word ‘monster’.

“But you know,” he tossed the figure at me and I caught it when it fell into my lap, “the school board wouldn’t approve if I asked to change the image of the titans, you know?”

“Yes, sir.” I palm the titan in my hand.

Smith leans back with a deep sigh. “So, can you explain to me why Mr. Ackerman felt the need to dismiss you?” He seemed to be looking at me with mirth.

I shuffle uncomfortably, which only caused my butt to sink deeper in this goddamn chair. “Um…”

“Yes?” he chuckled. 

He chuckled at me… what an ass.

“I didn’t call him by the name he wanted to be called.” I answer loosely. 

“Like what?” He was so laughing at me.

I look away from him and stare down at the figure in my hands. “Um, I might have called him ‘Corporal.’” 

“Oh… Why?”

I look up. His earlier mirth gone. “Why what, sir?”

“Why did you call Mr. Ackerman Corporal?” 

“Oh,” my face heats up and I look away from him again. “I don’t know.”

From the corner of my eye I see Smith lean back up onto his elbows, head in hands “I think you know why.” His voice was low and serious. I couldn’t help myself but to meet his eyes fully. A chill ran up my arms, down to my lower back. I know that the chill was caused from his stare rather than the questionable cold I’m getting.

My throat feels dry, “I guess he reminds me of someone…”

“Can I ask who, Mr. Jaeger?” 

God, does this man blink?

I lick my lips, trying to spread moisture around. “That’s a b-bit personal, sir.”

Smith raises one eyebrow, seeming surprised I didn’t tell him. I couldn’t blame him really. He seemed like the kind of guy who always gets what he wants. He watches me while I watch him, both of us saying nothing. After a long, awkward moment of weird staring, which kind of felt like an intimidation contest, Smith grinned half-heartedly. “Yes, I understand.”

I nodded, not sure what else to do.

Outside of the office, I could hear the bell ring, signifying the ending of six period.

Smith finally blinked, I couldn’t help but sigh at that, “What is your seventh period, Jaeger?”

I jumped, thankful we’re on a different topic. “Ah, study hall.”

“Oh,” he smiled, kindly this time, “free period for you seniors. Do you any ideas as to how you’ll spend it?”

“No, sir.”

“Being a new student must be hard, yes? Especially someone with outlandish features. Your eyes, I mean,” he added like I didn’t know what he was talking about. “I bet the girls are eating you up.” He fucking grinned a toothy grin at me.

I shift around again, still uncomfortable. “Ah, I guess, sir.”

“How anyone given you any trouble? Kirschtein maybe?”

What? “Uh, Jean?”

“Yes. He seems like the kind of guy who you wouldn’t see eye to eye with.” He threw that damn grin at me again.

“You seem to know a lot about your students, sir.” 

Smith shrugged but kept the grin. “I try to be involved. I’m your principal, but I want to be your pal, too. So how--.” He breaks off his sentence when his phone rings. Smith holds up his fucking finger at me and picks it up. “Hello? Oh Levi!” he moves the phone from his ear and covers the mouth piece. “You can leave now, Jaeger.” Smith gives me one last fucking grin and returns to the phone. “No, no. It was just Eren.”

It takes a moment to detach my butt from his chair, but I manage it. Even landing steadily on my feet. I call that a personal win, if anything! I still have the figure in my hand and I move to balance it back on Smith’s desk.

“You keep it,” the man said, phone still to his ear.

I nod and turn to leave. I’m out the door and it’s swinging shut when I hear, “We might have a live one…”

The door shuts with a loud click.

 

***

 

I decided to spend my first study hall in the library. It’s fairly empty and all of the computers are available. I move to make my way to the computer the furthest away from the librarian, who’s watching me with semi-circled hawk eyes, when I hear a loud giggle.

The most annoying giggle to ever giggle.

“Jaeger,” my name is stretched out and it’s coming from my left.

I look and I see a table between two bookshelves. Armin’s sitting at the head of the table with three large textbooks open and scattered around him. He’s looking at me thoughtfully, nothing but concern and worry in his soft blue eyes. Next to him is Jean.

I’m actually super offended that Jean thinks he can sit with Armin, really. That douche doesn’t even have the basic right of a human being to be near Armin. 

I don’t question why I’m so jealous, I just go with it.

“What, horse?” I snap. Armin hides a chuckle with a laugh and I feel my chest puff up with victory.

“Prick, you’re asking for it.” Jean’s long ass face is marked with a scowl and he looks thoroughly unhappy. Good.

I break off my computer track and walk over to their table. I sit down on Armin’s other side, across from Jean, and put my bag on the table, creating a barrier in case Jean does decide to leap over it and attack me. Armin’s smiles at me warmly and I return it. Jean makes a tsk noise in the back of his throat. I don’t seem to care one bit that he’s annoyed I joined him.

“You’re a dick, Jaeger. I’m not the only one who thinks so, too. Mr. Ackerman’s probably still pissy about you.” Jean said.

I ignore his first comment, because hey. I’m the bigger person. “I honestly don’t know why he blew up like that,” I grumble.

Armin leans toward me, “What did you call him exactly?”

I hesitant, but Jean answers for me. “Corporal. Like this is the fucking military.”

Armin’s eyes widen. “Are you involved with the military?”

I blush, embarrassed. In my head, yes. I’m involved with the military. I fight with the higher ups. I’m important. In real life? I think I watched one movie about war and that was for school. “Uh, not really.”

Jean gasped, “So it was a dirty fantasy!”

“No, you scumbag.” I snap at him. I turn to Armin, “I was just thinking about military stuff and it slipped out,” I half lied. “He has this air around him that makes him feel important.” Whole truth that time.

Jean makes a face, “Can’t disagree with you there. But seriously, he spent the rest of class with a major stick up his ass. Then Mikasa,” he sighed her name, I felt like gagging, “came in and it got worse. He didn’t even talk to us for the rest of the period. Just sat at his desk and glared at her. I can’t believe they’re related.”

“I know,” I caught myself agreeing.

Jean’s eyes glared at my face. “How do you know that?”

I blinked once, then with all the smugness I could muster, I grinned at him. “Mikasa told me.”

“Stay away from her, you swine!” he pointed a finger at me as he yelled. 

“Shhhhh!” The librarian all but yells at him. Jean leans back into his chair, red-faced from embarrassment or anger, I don’t know. I meet Armin’s eyes again and we burst out into girlish giggles. Then Jean turns red from embarrassment. “Shut it, you guys!”

The rest of the period is spent ignoring Jean and working with Armin on our Physics homework. It was hard stuff, just a paper of questions to answer to see what we know. Stupid shit like that. Jean leaves a little before the bell sounds, mumbling to Armin—not me because I don’t exist in his world, says him—that he needs to find Marco. When Jean leaves through the doors, I turn to the blond boy next to me.

“Why doesn’t Jean just, like, try to hook up with Marco?” I ask.

Armin huffs a laugh at his paper. He replies without looking up. “So you know about Marco?”

I stretch back, “No one told me. Actually didn’t think about it til now, honestly. It’s just the way the dude looks at the horse.”

“They’ve been friends forever. Marco came out, though not all around publicly, freshman year. Everyone who knows about Marco can tell that he’s in love with Jean.”

“Except Jean,” I sigh. I shake my head. What an idiot bastard.

“You got it. Marco won’t do anything though, because their best friends.”

“Do you have a best friend?” I ask.

Armin looks up from his paper to look at me, wrinkling his nose unconsciously. “Um… not really.”

I swallow, “Do you want to be best friends?”

Goddamn it, I sound like a four year old.

The blond boy’s face breaks out into a blindingly smile. “Sure.”

I smile at him, equally as blinding. The bell rings a couple seconds later and we gather our things. As we’re walking out the doors, the librarian is eyeing us in annoyance, probably hoping we don’t decide to spend our seventh period in the library all year.

As Armin and I are walking out the front doors, I see a figure out of the corner of my eye, standing in the threshold leading to the main offices. I turn my head and make eye contact with Mr. Ackerman. His eyes stormy, but surprising not angry, as he looks at me. His face is completely smooth and unreadable, but I see the tightening of one of his fists. I turn my head quickly as my eyes widen in what can only be fear.

“Do you drive?” I ask Armin when we emerge from the stuffy air of the school building into what feels like heaven.

Armin shakes him head, causing his ponytail that was over his shoulder, to slide off and sit between his shoulder blades. “No, I walk. Home’s not that far from here.”

I dig my keys out of my pants pocket. “Where do you live?”

Armin looks up at me, surprised. “Uh, a little down the road. On Maria St.”

“Me, too! Want a ride?”

“Really?” he stops and looks at me, wide eyed.

“Of course. We’re best friends, right?” I smile cheekily.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Armin asks, unsure. His face scrunches up and I can’t help but think it’s adorable. His nose is like a tiny button on his sharp, pointed face.

I reach up and scratch behind my ear. I blush, slightly embarrassed at his question. “Well, uh, I don’t know why. I just instantly liked you. Plus, you didn’t mention my eyes.”

He thinks for a bit. “You really don’t like your eyes, do you?”

I bite my lip. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I just feel like a stranger when I see them,” I answer truthfully.

Armin gets a faraway look in his eyes. “I know what you mean…”

I shuffle my feet, “Yeah.”

We were standing at the front of the school and cars were driving past us. A honk sounds near us. We both jump and look over, seeing a waving, smiling Marco, and a Jean who’s looking at me and giving me the finger.

My god, his fingers are freakishly long.

“I liked you, too!” Armin suddenly exclaims. I turn back to him and see his red face. “I don’t know why either, but I feel like…” he breaks off.

“Like?” I ask.

“Like we were made to be friends!” Armin’s face, by this point, is as red as a tomato. The blond makes a startled noise in the back of his throat and looks away, at the ground. “I’m sorry, that’s weird…”

I reach out and grab his shoulders. “No, it doesn’t! I feel it, too!”

Armin looks up, skeptic, “Really?”

“Yes! Now, if you please, I would like to get out of this hell hole!” I laugh, brightening the mood.

He smiles up at me. “Okay.” We both turn and walk to the parking lot, my car being one of the few remaining. Armin suddenly looks up at me, excited. “Hey, I wanna ask. Have you ever been to the ocean?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so intimidated by this chapter, holy moly. I was just so scared to write Erwin for some reason. I hope I did him justice. hah I had to keep asking my friend and sister is this and that were okay. 
> 
> i think im in love with armin you guys. he's just so cute and adorable and i can picture him with that ponytail looking like a man but hes still the same armin we all know and love. aw bless
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought you guys deserved a little Levi and Eren interaction.

“Eren.”

Never in a million years would I ever admit this, but I love the way he says my name. He’s says it so confidently, so sure that he has the right to say it. He does. He has every right in the world to utter, whisper, scream, tsk, sigh my name as long as it’s my name he’s saying with such tender eyes. The eyes I’m looking indirectly into right now. He’s standing behind me, but to my left a bit so I can see him. He’s eye level with my shoulders now. I just keep growing every day, don’t I?

 _It’s because I’m a monster. A_ titan _._

“Eren, you brat,” he snapped, but half the attitude wasn’t there, I felt his hands firmly grasp my waist, pushing me, almost forcefully, closer to the mirror, “stop looking at me and look at your goddamn reflection.”

I refuse to move my gaze from his ever warming eyes. His usually stormy gray eyes softening into gentle ripples under the night sky. He doesn’t look at anyone else like that, so I can be as greedy as I can. Those eyes belong to me. That worried pinch between his brows belong to me. It shows that he cares me for, worries for me, fears for me.

This man is making me selfish.

“No,” I whisper.

“Why not?” His voice is low, but still hard, still superior.

“Because there’s a monster in the mirror.” I answer softly.

“You callin’ me a monster, shitface?” I watch him lift his eyebrow in questioning and feel his hands tighten on my waist.

“N-no, Corporal, never…”

“If it isn’t me,” he looks away from my eyes in the reflection and his eyes wonder, “then who is it? Because the only monster I see is me.”

“No,” I snap.

His eyes return to mine. “No?”

“You are not a monster. You save people. You’re Humanity’s Strongest,” I whisper. I gulp when his eyes widen with slight anger. I know he doesn’t like the title. “If we win this war, it’s because of you, Corporal. I-it’s me,” my voice starts to shake and I can feel the blood on my ankles again, “I’m the monster.”

“Why are you a monster?” he asks, tonelessly.

I fidget. His hands are iron traps on me now, holding me in place. I can feel the heat leaking from them and onto me. It should feel comforting, but I feel restricted. My stomach is flipping violently on itself. I feel like I’m about to vomit, but I control it. Corporal would never touch me again if I puked on him.

I shake my head, afraid to answer him.

“Answer, brat.” He shakes me for emphasize.  

“I… I killed someone today…” His eyes are too much, too stimulating. I look away, feeling my nose start to itch and my eyelids start to weigh a ton.

Fuck. If I start crying now, Corporal won’t want to be with me anymore.

Corporal’s hands leave my waist and slide up my sides. I try not to squirm at the ticklish sensation. I watch as Corporal leans in, leaning fully up against my body. His arms are wrapped around my shoulders and his chest is pressing into the left side of my back. My eyes widen in surprise. He’s never held me like this before. Never in comfort. I’m enveloped in his arms and I feel—not for the first time—smaller than him.

“I’m only going to say this once. So get the shit out of your ears, okay?” I nod, not trusting my voice. I know if I start talking again, confess again, I’ll start leaking from my face and he’ll find that disgusting and childish. And I can’t let go of him right now. “You listening? Good, okay. Yes, you killed someone today.”

I push against him and try to wiggle out of his arms.

“You little shit,” he mumbles. Corporal lifts on his tiptoes and rewraps his arms around my neck, turning the comforting embrace into a chokehold. My body hunches forward when he returns to his feet. “No. You fucking listen to me right now, Eren Jaeger. You killed someone.” A strangled noise escapes my throat, but he continues, “You killed someone, but so have I. So has Commander Eyebrows, so has Armin, so has every-fucking-one here. Are you listening? We are all murderers.”

I shake my head, which shakes the tears that were lining on my eyelids to fall. “No. You guys kill titans. I killed _a person_.”

“Who wasn’t following orders!” he screamed in my ear. “Everyone was told to hold back, to watch your _back_ while you were engaged in combat. The only reason that shithead got caught under your foot was because he _wasn’t following orders._ He got himself killed.” His voice was like a whip. Every word like a slash into my head.

“He wouldn’t have disobeyed orders if I wasn’t a monster!” I scream back.

“Fuck, Eren!” Corporal roughly grabs each side of my face and turns it violently in the direction of the mirror. I meet my eyes. My swollen, watery, green eyes. I close them tightly. “No you don’t.” Corporal shouts in my ear. “Don’t look away. Do you have any idea how many people you saved today? Did you forget you pulled Jean away just when he was titan food? That shithead, Springer, would have lost his disgusting girlfriend if it wasn’t for you!”

I duck my head lower, squeezing my eyes more tightly. Echoes of a screaming Jean and Connie ricocheting throughout the inner walls of my brain. God. Connie was hysterical. I couldn’t even blame Jean from being slightly pathetic. He _was_ halfway down a titan’s throat…

“Remember, you thickheaded pig? Your stupid friends and other squad members would have become titan shit if you weren’t around. So for fuck’s sake, _open your goddamn eyes._ ”

They open automatically. I lock eyes with myself. I look fucking ridiculous. I’m at least five inches taller than the man behind me and he’s folded over me. I look hysterical. Corporal looks as cool as ever, the only evidence of his feelings lie within his eyes and the curves of his thin eyebrows.

“When you look in the mirror, you shouldn’t see a monster. If I’m being frank,” when isn’t he? “You’re a fucking piece. A piece in the military’s game, Erwin’s game, _my_ fucking game. You’re a stupid kid with the weight of the goddamn world on your shoulders and that. Fucking. Sucks.”

“Corporal…” I whimper, emotional. His voice is almost cracking. It’s definitely wavering.

“I sure as hell don’t like the title “Humanity’s Strongest” so it’s shit luck for you to have “Humanity’s Last Hope”. Humans are disgusting, selfish pigs. All we want to do is sit on our asses and get fat off the food other people prepare for us. I don’t know if you know this, but our numbers are dropping. No one wants to fight because of you. Not because they’re scared of you. But because they _believe in you._ ” Corporal roughly pushes me forward. My face connects with the glass and a sharp pain in my cheek causes me to wince. The cracks in the mirror spiraling from the spot my face is mashed up against. I can see multiple Corporals in those cracks. All looking at me with more emotion I’ve ever seen in him.

Blood drips onto the floor a second before steam engulf the injured side of my face.

“Now, I’m going to ask you again. If the monster you see in this goddamn mirror isn’t me, then who is it?” he asks coldly.

Tears—happy, sad, relieved, scared, I have no idea, but fucking _tears_ —splash onto the floor and mix with my blood. The room is quiet minus my shuffled sobbing. A fist clenches into the back of my shirt and I’m pulled from the broken glass. Corporal turns me roughly and I’m wrapped in his arms again, my face in the crook of his neck. I can feel Corporal’s arm muscles contract around me.

In that moment, I’ve never felt safer.

“No one,” I cry into Corporal’s skin, “I don’t see a monster.”

Corporal’s hand moves up my back and into my hair. He twists his fingers into the strands and pulls my head back. If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I would think his face is neutral. But I know him. Pain is in his eyes. Worry is etched in his eyebrows. Helplessness is quivering on his bottom lip.

“Good, you goddamn brat.” I barely have enough time to laugh shakily before his lips meet mine.

This kiss is different. Most of the kisses we’ve shared are frantic, heated, and passionate. Hungry kisses that quickly turns into something more. The lips on mine, now, feel completely foreign. They’re soft, like velvet, and keep pressing onto mine like the gentleness a butterfly’s wings have. Corporal’s lips are warm and solid under mine, moving with hesitance and speaking words that Corporal can’t seem to get out. I can taste his words when he slides his hot tongue between my lips.

I moan into his mouth, feeling way too relieved at having his tongue in my mouth. Usually, I try to fight for some control. Battle his tongue with mine. Right now, I need him to take control. I need him to hold me and kiss me like I’m not a monster. I want to believe his mouth when he kisses me and tells me nothing is monstrous about me. I need to touch him, because I know Corporal would never do this kind of thing with anything other than a human.

“Please,” I whisper against his lips. I’m not sure what exactly I’m asking. For him to take me into bed? For him to just slash his blades through me and end it all? I’m not sure what my gut was saying, but when Corporal detaches himself from my mouth he grabs me around the back of my neck and leads me to his neatly made bed.

With quick movements, Corporal has my shirt off in less than a second. He throws it carelessly over his shoulder, which stumps me. Usually when we have sex and the clothes are being discarded, he always takes time to nicely fold and place them on the chair next to his bed under the only window in the room. Now? Corporal’s on his knees, tearing into the fabric of my pants.

“C-Corporal?” I blush to the roots of my hair.

“Brat, say my name.” His wet tongue circles my navel.

I moan his name. His name tastes delicious in my mouth. I’m always in a shape of wanting to say his name. It’s the most badass, beautiful, simple name anyone could ever have.

With gentle hands, the man kneeled down in front of me pulls down my pants and undergarments. With a quick, teasing lick to my half hard on, he stands back up on his feet. With a look of determination, he places both of his hands on my chest, almost lovingly.

Then he pushes me hard onto the bed.

My back bounces twice on the surface before I’m finally settled. I can feel my face and the top of my chest burning from my blush. Corporal is standing tally over me, gazing down almost lifelessly as he takes in my naked state. I’ve been naked in front of his a few times before, but never have I ever felt this _bare_. His eyes felt like pleasant burns on my skin. His gaze inched hungrily down my body, which made me hard real fast.

“Listen,” he suddenly speaks, surprising soft, even more surprisingly uneven, “this isn’t going to be a simple fuck.”

My heart leaps. “I know.”

His eyes connect with mine. “I’m serious, kid. After this is done, you are mine.”

I shallow nervously. “You were never just a fuck to me.”

His eyes soften considerably. It’s quiet for a few seconds before he opens his mouth, “Yes, it seems it wasn’t like that for me either.”

If I don’t say it now, I’ll never say it. “I-I love you.”

Him still being fully clothed, I can practically see his heart break. “You shouldn’t.”

 

 

***

 

 

My heart is beating way too fast in my chest right now. It’s dark in my here, but it could be the middle of the afternoon for all I know. My alarm clock has yet to be unpacked and I’m honestly too physically and emotionally drained to reach other and check my phone. I’m staring up at my ceiling, laying on my bed, with my dick out of my shorts and my dried orgasm on my stomach. I feel kind of terrible. It’s not like I’ve never got off after a dream like that. Usually, if Corporal was in it, I’d find myself excited in some kind of way. Most of the time, it’s _that_ kind of excited.

I can hear my mom move around outside of these walls. It’s the first Saturday of the school year and she decided it was about time we finish packing everything. I make a face at the ceiling. I know she’s trying to keep herself busy. Dad isn’t home yet and I haven’t been spending a lot of time with her. If I’m not at school, I’m in here, sleeping. Dreaming.

I’ve asked Armin if he was available after school each day this week, but he’s always been busy. He told me his grandpa is sick with something so he needs to stay near him to take care of him. Marco asked if I wanted to join him and Jean for some fast food on Thursday, but I politely declined him while I flipped off Jean.

I was actually really thankful for Marco, though. After the disaster that happened the first day involving a certain teacher, he was the only one who tried to prevent everyone from teasing me too mercilessly. Jean was the worse. That fucking horse. Reiner was the close to bat.

He just thought it was _fucking hilarious_ that I have “dirty thoughts of Mr. Ackerman”.

I sigh, miserably. That goddamn teacher.

Mr. Ackerman didn’t talk to me at all over the rest of the week. When I walked into his class the day after what happened, I was slightly terrified, wondering if he was going to call Smith down again. But when I sat down in my sit—which was right in fucking front of him—he just merrily glanced at me with his stormy eyes that were still so familiar, and looked away. Not saying a word to me, not even really looking at me.

But I guess his lack of looking was made up for. Almost every time I was outside of a classroom, I’d see Smith somewhere hidden on the walls. Most of the time, if appeared as if he was actually supposed to be there, but other times, it seemed like he was there just to watch. Now, I’m not the smart. I’m the brightest bulb in the fucking box, but I know when I’m getting stared down. Over the past week I’d always try to catch Smith’s eyes, to tell him that _yes, I know you’re watching me. Why the fuck are you watching me?_

But at least he’s trying to hide it.

I’ve caught Mikasa’s eyes probably around seventy times in the past week. I’d be walking down the hallway and feeling burning coals in my back. I’d turn around and there she is, not even trying to hide the fact she was watching me. I’d see her in the library, in the school parking lot, when I come out of the fucking _restroom_. When I first starting seeing her, I’d wave at her and try to engage in conversation. As soon as I’d get three steps within her she’d turn away.

That kind of pissed me off. She _knew_ I was trying to talk to her. I know because every time we meet eyes, she looks so hopeful. Every time I make one fucking step towards her, her hopeful eyes melt into depressed orbs. She pinches her face up every single time I’m near her.

And I’m starting to think it’s me.

When I first told Armin about her, he was surprised. Turns out they were really close when they were fifteen or such. Mikasa was Armin’s only friend, actually. That kind of broke my heart, when I thought about it. I don’t know why, but when I pictured a fifteen-year-old Armin, I picture a boy with soft features and an unfortunate haircut, with big blue eyes too big for his face.

According to Armin, Mikasa suddenly, near the middle of their sophomore year, she left, without saying a word to him. Principal Smith also had a leave of absence around the same time period. Armin told me a lot of rumors came out of that. Like Mikasa and Smith ran away together. They’re undercover spies for the government—because apparently Mikasa is a black belt in Judo and Smith is talented in some fighting skills—and other ridiculous stuff like that. Armin told me, that it was the beginning of junior year Mikasa came back. Smith had come back towards the end of their sophomore and that’s what stopped the rumors involving him and the girl.

But when Mikasa came back, she wasn’t alone.

Mr. Ackerman seemed to have got a job in a blink of an eye. Armin told me the reason Mr. Ackerman teaches easy English classes is because the man isn’t even qualified to be a teacher and Smith just wanted him there. After Armin told me that, Reiner’s comment at lunch about Mr. Ackerman and Smith being gay for each other made a whole lot more sense. Over the week, when I’d walk out to the lot after the final bell rung, I’d see Mr. Ackerman in the main office.

I sigh. My eyes are itchy and sore and the cum on my stomach is starting to cool. I know if I don’t start moving around soon, my mom is going to come open my door and see my deflated, sad, sad, neglected dick.

I make quick work of cleaning up and getting dressed. When I open my door and step out into the hallway I can hear Mom singing and cooking something in the kitchen. The room is filled with soft, yellow sunlight and Mom is smiling softly around the lyrics. She’s still in her pajama shorts and a loose tank. I look over to the clock on the stove and it reads 8:13.

“Holy crap, I’m up way too early.”

Mom turns and her smile brightens. “Good morning! Wow, I was expecting you to sleep in to probably noon today.” She looks down at her ingredients. “Guess I have to get more pancake mix.”

“Please and thank you,” I grumble. I turn from the kitchen the offending to my eyes and throw myself onto the loveseat in the living room. Mom continues her cooking and I just lay there with my face mashed up against the leather cushions.

I bite my lip. My head is still filled with thoughts of Corporal. I woke up this morning, my body alive and aflame. Every inch of my skin was sensitive and my lips were tingly. If I concentrate hard enough, the tingle will come back. Trust me, I’ve done that multiple times. I would do anything to experience Corporal again.

Fuck, fuck, no, no. Fuck.

This is getting out of hand. My dreams about Corporal have been getting more detailed and more serious with each passing day. I’m waking up almost every day with a massive boner and flushed skin. I do not like it.

But because of the more details, I’m starting to remember more characteristics about him. I’m a hundred percent confident Corporal has inky black and heavy bags under his eyes. He’s shorter than me, but has more muscles in his arms and calves. He doesn’t smile much, but when he does it’s slightly lopsided, like he forgot how to smile in the first place.

I shuffle around on the couch and come up from air. Turning onto my back I play back my recent dream.

He said I wasn’t a monster. In the back of my head I can feel a slight ache. A couple days ago I deemed that ache as the other Eren. Every time I think about Corporal or the girl with the red scarf or the boy with the yellow hair, my head would start to ache. I can imagine the me from my dreams snapping at me to stop thinking about the people most important to him.

I close my eyes and my face pinches in sadness. They’re important to me, too. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t seem to convince myself that these people aren’t real. Even more now. This feeling has been getting stronger and stronger each day.

I slap both my hands over my face. God. I’m going crazy.

 _No, you’re not_ …

“Yes, I am.” I whisper out loud.

I let my body relax into the leather of the couch and watch the ceiling fan turn and turn for what seems like hours. I only get up when Mom calls me for breakfast.

As I’m sitting down, Mom speaks, “I found you a job.”

“Where?” I shovel almost a whole pancake into my mouth. They’re not _that_ big…

“Jesus, child! Cut your food!”

I make a disapproving noise in the back of my throat.

Mom makes a rude face at me. “Any way. Yes, I found a job for you at the bookstore down the road, you savage.”

I swallow, “I like bookstores.”

“Yup. It’s the same old one across from the coffee shop. They’re hiring, too.”

“God, no.”

Mom chuckled, “Thought so.”

“Do you know when it opens?” I pour more syrup on my food and watch them drown in it. Yes… feel my misery.

“Around nine. And can you please?” She gestured to my plate. Syrup was spilling off the sides.

“It’s better like this.” I pout.

“You’re teeth are going to fall out.”

“I’ll grow more.”

I stop. I look at Mom nervously.

She laughs gently, “Silly, fake teeth cost a fortune.”

She doesn’t seem to notice my relieved sigh. In the past I’ve told Mom that in my dreams I can heal from anything. At first she played along with me, saying that I was cool and a superhero. Then I started getting hurt, trying to prove to others that I could… well, that was around the time I started seeing someone.

We eat the rest of our meal in comfortable silence. I eat at least six pancakes and practically drink the leftover syrup from my plate, which makes Mom pretend to gag and threaten my teeth again. I take my plate over to the sink.

“I’m going to go check out that bookstore. Get dressed, you lazy bum.”

She points at me, “Pot,” then points at her chest, “Kettle.”

I walk out to the driveway chuckling.

It takes me about ten minutes to find the bookstore. Like Mom said, it’s pretty old and anyone call tell because of the color of the bricks. They’re a redish brown, sticking out like a sore thumb around the surrounding shiny, silver buildings. A stupid coffee shop was, indeed, across the road and hiring. Ugh, I hate coffee.

A shiny blue car is parked in front of the store, so I park a little down the road. The sun’s out and the morning air on my skin and whispering through my hair feels nice. Not a lot of people are on this side of the road, most of them are on the other, coming out of the goddamn coffee shop. Most of them are teenagers. Ugh.

Written on the glass in curvy lettering is “Pixis’ Classics”. I open the door and a little bell rings out. The floorboards under my feet moan with each step. The air smells like yellowing, old pages. Lined up against each wall are bookshelves reaching to the ceiling. Clustering on the floor are small round tables stacked with different colored books. Some huge, probably the length of my arm, and others so small I hope the text is huge because no one with normal eyes could read of it.

On the left wall from the door is the checkout desk. Which was empty.

I walk more into the store and the door closes, shutting out the rest of the world.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Comes a voice near the back of the store. A door I didn’t notice opened widely and there stood an old, bald man with rosy cheeks and wrinkled eyes. I would have taken in more detail about the man, if it wasn’t for the man standing behind him, looking over his shoulder in a way that seemed really, _really_ familiar.

Mr. Ackerman was looking at me with a blank face, but his eyes were widened slightly.

“Oh my God! If it isn’t Eren Jaeger!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed chapter 5!! I'm so happy at all the comments and kudos. thank you thank you thank you thank you. I have a major event tonight so I wanted to quickly get this posted. the project is my senior project and it decides if I graduate or not.. BUM BUM BUMMMMM *screams in the background*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to add new tags because of this chapter.

I don’t know what any normal person would do after some stranger they’ve never met before exclaimed your whole name, that same stranger who was in the same room with a teacher that clearly hated you seconds beforehand, but it’s probably wise if they don’t do what I did. Which was to meet Mr. Ackerman’s eyes, fuming with increasing anger.

He clearly saw it. “Got a problem, kid?”

With every passing second, with every blink Mr. Ackerman makes, my blood boils further. He obviously told the owner—I’m assuming the elder man was—about me, probably saying he had some punk ass kid in his class with weird eyes who liked to have fantasies about him. How else would the man know my name?

“What did you say to him?” I snap. A recognizable feeling swirls in the back of my head. I clench my fists, taking a step forward. Through my red haze I can see the elder man watching me with confused narrowed eyes. His hands are up, almost in a cautious warning. But frankly, I don’t care. The asshole teacher in front of my probably already ruined my chances at getting a job here, so why not go out with a bang? And take someone down off his high fucking horse.

Mr. Ackerman stepped forward too, the beginnings of anger outlining his eyes. “I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re asking of me, brat, but you better watch your goddamn tone. I am your superior.”

I laugh, mirthlessly. The feeling in my head becoming stronger, I can feel it on the brink. Eren’s excited. I can feel his excitement. I push him down. This is _my_ fucking fight. No douchebag like him is going to jeopardize my future in any way. “Please. How else would he know my name, _Levi_?” I sneer his name.

I expected anger from him, which I got when his name fell from my lips, but then his eyes widen suddenly.

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, “My boy, Levi didn’t say anything abou--.”

“Anything good,” Levi interrupted the elder man. “I didn’t say anything good about a shithead kid in my class with weird fucking eyes named Eren Jaeger. Congratulations, brat, you’re well known now.”

I clench my teeth, almost vibrating with fury. I knew it. Why can’t he just stop spreading shit about me?

“Levi?” The man behind me asked, his tone puzzled.

“Isn’t that right, Pixis? This is the perverted bastard from school I told you about.” Levi was looking past me, probably connecting gazes with who must have been Pixis. His hand was still on my shoulder, keeping me anchored from throwing myself at the short man in front of me. I am not a fighter, but this man makes me feel things.

“I… seem to remember now.” Pixis said. His hand squeezed my shoulder. “Boy, you need to calm down.”

And just like that, my anger evaporated. Looking away from Levi, whose eyes were back on me, I slumped, hanging my head.

Pixis removed his hand, “What can I help you with, my boy?”

“I-I came here looking for a job… But I can see that you probably won’t think about hiring me.” I mumbled, looking at the worn out wood of the floor. Dust footprints matted the woodwork. It might have looked dirty, but I thought it was cool looking.

“Why would you think that?” The elder man asked, his voice gentle, which surprised me. Maybe he didn’t believe Levi when he said I was a pervert.

“Because this asshole is spreading lies about me.”

“Watch your mouth kid, I’m still your teacher.” Levi snapped.

“We’re not in school,” I snapped back. I met his glare and almost took a step back in surprise. The way Levi was looking at me didn’t match the tone of voice he spoke with. His facial expression screamed boredom, but his eyes flashed with emotion. The usual stormy gray settling into a calm gray drizzle.

“I can still kick you out of here,” he replied, his lips curling up into a smirk.

“Levi, that’s enough. Go wait in the back room please. I would like a word.” Pixis’ voice broke whatever atmosphere that was between me and the short man. I watched as Levi straighten his back and the earlier emotion drained from his eyes, morphing into miniature storms again.

Levi tsked and turned away, shutting the door to the back room behind him with a loud slam. It’s when Levi is out of sight the buzzing in the back of my head dies.

“Well, I need a drink,” Pixis breaks the silence. I turn my head away from the door and watch the old man walk over to the empty desk, lean over the top and reach for something behind it. I huff with amusement when I see him straighten up with a flask in his hand. Pixis watches me as he untwist the top and takes a sip.

“Should you be drinking on the job, sir?” I ask.

“I don’t see anyone stupid enough to try and stop me. Want a sip?” He holds out the flask and I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic.

“Uh, no thanks, sir.”

“Aw, come on. Last time I offered a sip to a kid like you, he spat it everywhere. It was freaking hilarious.” He smiled fondly at the memory.

“Even more reason as to why I don’t want a sip.” I answer.

“You’re snippier than I remember,” Pixis mumbles around another sip.

A chill runs down my spine. By this point, I don’t even question as to why. “Sir?” I ask, confused.

Pixis waved his hand through the air, nonchalantly. “My bad. Mixed you up with someone else. You know, old age really makes a man go bananas.” He grinned cheekily at me, his cheeks reddening from the alcohol. “You remind me of a kid I once knew. Levi knew him, too.”

My hearts stops for some reason. “Really?”

Pixis nodded. “Yup. Yup. Levi loved the kid, actually. That’s probably the reason he acts like something died up his ass when he’s around you. You have the same glow in your eyes, same aura.” Pixis smiled sadly off into the distance.

“Where is he now?” I swallow.

Pixis looked up, startled at my question. “Oh, uh… He died. Murdered.”

My whole body felt cold. The aching in my head reappeared, but Eren didn’t seem excited anymore. All I could feel was sadness.

“Really?” I ask softly, looking back to the door leading to where Levi was.

“Yes. Levi was never the same afterwards. I think he loved that kid more than he loved himself, and that’s a whole lot.”

“I believe you,” I agreed. Levi did seem to think highly of himself. But maybe that was a front.

“It happened a long time ago, though. But everyone knew the poor guy would never get over it.” His voice was laced with remorse, his eyes shimmering in his wrinkled face. He met my gaze then straighten suddenly. “That’s why you should be nice to him.”

I gaped. “What? Why me?”

“Trust me, kid. He doesn’t dislike you as much as you think he does. Just try warming up to him and I swear to the wall he’ll go easy on ya.”

“Swear to the wall?” I repeat. I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere.

“Just a saying I picked up from a past life,” Pixis said lightly, “I’m an old soul, you know. Now, how about I get you a job.”

Pixis walked behind the desk in favor of leaning over it again and begun to dig through a pile of paperwork. I watched him, shocked that he still considered hiring me. Pixis started to hum, and I couldn’t deny that I quite liked this strange old man. He smiled warmly at me when he handed the piece of paper over to me.

“I don’t get a lot of youngsters asking to work here, the youngest being Levi.” Pixis walks around and straightens the books on the table.

I make a sour face. “Levi works here?”

The man huffs in breathless laughter, his pink cheeks reddening, “Look at your face. Yeah, but only in the summer, and some weekends where I can’t make it in if my life depended on it.”

“So…” I say slowly.

“So, you’re practically already hired. Plus, I like ya. Freaky looking eyes, but hey,” he shrugs, “We all have our flaws.”

“Thanks,” I say, not sure if I should be offended, because I honestly can’t tell if he’s joking.

Pixis started to walk back to the door leading to Levi. The floorboards shifted and moaned under him, but it kind of sounded nice. “Just fill out the papers and write down days and hours you can fit into your schedule. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to talk to Levi.” Pixis opened the door and from the angle I’m standing I can make out the end of a brown table and two foldout chairs, the kind movie stars sit in during shooting hours, and a giant map of Africa on the wall opposite the door. Weird, but okay.

Levi was sitting in one of the chairs, his eyes glowed on the tabletop.

“Thank you, Mr…” Crap, is Pixis his last name?

Levi looked up, his eyes turning to me, but I kept my eyes on the old man.

“Mr. Dot, but call me Pixis. Says so on the door.” He threw a smile behind his shoulder before he shut the door separating me and Levi. Who was watching me with his gray eyes until he couldn’t.

I breathe in deeply, particles of dust and sheet fuzz probably swimming into my lungs from being in this large, book infested room for so long. I could hear deep mumbling from the other room, but it wasn’t loud enough to make out words. Still standing in the middle of the room, I walk over to the desk and fill out the sheets Pixis gave me, writing down almost every day after school. I kept Wednesdays open. Wednesdays are usually the days I feel the most sluggish.

While scribbling down my new address, my mind runs over the conversation I had with Pixis about Levi. I didn’t expect to walk in here and get half a back story about the guy. Which made a little sense, I regrettably agreed. I can’t say I know personally what losing someone you love is like, but the other Eren does. I live with him. I watch his story, which involves losing his mother and almost everyone he knows. Losing Mom really changed him.

Maybe Levi was actually an okay guy behind his tragedy.

But that really gives him no right to take it out on me. Pixis said I remind him of the guy Levi loved, and that I probably remind Levi as well. I know it must be hard on him, but he has no right in the world to get mad at me, make my life hell, if I remind him of his dead friend or not.

Wait. Was the kid who died Levi’s friend or brother, maybe a family member? I can’t really see Levi having any close friends, but then again all I’ve seen of Levi is his moody, “I’m superior so I can do whatever I want, brat” side. Or maybe the guy who died was his friend and the reason he acts like such an asshole is because he doesn’t want another friend because he doesn’t want to replace the old one. That’s a likely theory.

I smile, congratulating myself inwardly for figuring out the puzzle.

Pixis said to be nice to Levi. To try to warm up to him. Isn’t trying to replace someone a bad thing? Wouldn’t I be taking advantage of Levi’s fragile state? Stormy gray eyes flash across my memory and I’m reminded that Levi has no fragile side. He’s nothing but hard edges and rocky surfaces. There’s no way he would ever let me close enough to take advantage of him if I even wanted to. Which I didn’t. Befriending my asshole teacher is the last thing on my bucket list, and I don’t even have a bucket list.

An aching shuffling in the back of my head makes me drop my pencil. I can feel other Eren. It’s almost like I can hear his hard voice in my ear.

 _Forgive him_.

“Yeah right.” I mumble, finishing the paperwork and leaving it nicely stacked on the middle of the desk. I decide against informing Pixis that I’m leaving and just walk out the door. The fresh air violating my nose and washing out the scent of aging books.

I definitely don’t want to be Levi’s friend. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.

_You do._

I shake my head, trying to drown the voice that’s mine, but isn’t.

“You shaking the fleas out of your hair, mutt?” A familiar voice speaks behind me.

“Oh, fuck me.” I say out loud. I turn to the source of the voice and see Levi leaning up against the side of the building, almost hidden away by the shadows. An ember of light shines at the end of the cigarette dangling from his lips, which are curling upward, almost cruelly, into a smirk. His eyes are wide as he regards me, probably like mine are now. Both of us are shocked at my reaction.

Levi takes the stick from his mouth and taps it, ash falling to the ground in a graceful descend. “Wow. And right when you finally convinced me you’re not a pervert.”

I step towards him. “I’m not a pervert.”

“Whatever you say,” he mumbles around the cigarette. His eyes are still locked on me, filled with amusement and mirth.

“You should really stop treating me so shitty.” I say, somewhat calmly. My body is doing the opposite of what I want it to do, which is relaxing. Which is matching the other presence in my head.

“I treat everyone shitty. What makes you so special?” He speaks tonelessly, finally looking away to stare down at his cigarette. “Other than the fact you seem to want to bone me. You fucking freak, god, it’s really my bad luck I’m stuck with you all year.”

“I’m not him, you know!” I yell suddenly.

Levi drops his cigarette and snaps his eyes back to me.

I continue, “I’m not him, so you should stop treating me like I’m the bad guy, okay?”

Levi holds up one hand. “What on God’s earth are you talking about, you shithead?” His voice is laced with menace.

“Pixis told me I might remind you of someone you loved who died. I get it, you’re upset. But to take it out on me is uncalled for and unfair!” I could feel a wave of encouragement wash through me that definitely didn’t come from me. Other Eren was cheering me on, it seems.

The feeling quickly zapped away when I felt a hand on the front of my shirt quickly pull my forward and slam my back against the wall. Stunned, my eyes vibrated in my head and I saw blurry for a few seconds. After a few moments, they sharpened and I realized I was face-to-face with Levi, his nose almost brushing against mine. The air he exhaled out of his nose blew over my lips.

“You’re not him, you say? You’re damn _fucking_ right you’re not him.” His words were cold, but his voice was arctic. “I don’t need some punk like you, spewing worthless shit I already know.”

His grip on my shirt was still tight, his face was still close and slowly turning red, but I didn’t feel anger. Well _I_ did. Other Eren…

He was happy. I could feel his giddy bliss swimming through my veins. It was slowly taking over me. Like back in Levi’s classroom, I felt myself slip from my rightful place in my mind to be replaced with other Eren. I’ve only experienced other Eren feel this happy when he’s around Corporal.

“Levi,” my lips moved, my voice, but not my voice, whispered.

I feel myself lift my hand and rest it on Levi’s fist bundled up in my shirt. My hand rested on his gently, lovingly. A shiver runs down both our bodies, because Levi’s small body shakes with mine.

“Levi.” I hear myself whisper again, “Levi, I’m not a monster. And neither are you.” Other Eren speaks so softly, so cautiously. He’s almost as scared as I am at what Levi’s reaction will be.

Levi’s face, which harbored a confused, annoyed glare at my sudden change in attitude, immediately fell. In place, I saw a man so vulnerable, so broken, he looked nothing like the asshole teacher I’ve come to almost despise. I felt a tear fall from my lids. Not my tears, but Eren’s tears.

“Eren?” Levi whispered my name. I can feel the heart in my chest thump madly. Blood rushed behind my ears. Levi’s hand on my shirt loosen. My hand quickly snatched it up and intertwined our fingers. I’m not a hundred percent sure which one of us was trembling, but other Eren didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Yes,” Eren sighs tearfully. He squeezes Levi’s hands.

I feel paralyzed. My body feels thousands of miles away from me right now. I’m watching a man look at me, but not really looking at me, and he looks so… scared. Whatever struggle I was making at trying to recover my own body died at the sight in front of me. Both Eren and I were looking at Levi’s glossed over eyes and trembling lips. The compulsion of wanting to kiss them was so strong, I don’t know from who it came from. Me or other Eren.

I would have hesitated. I would have questioned myself if it was wise to kiss my teacher. I would have talked myself down from it and then admit to being a pervert for _ever_ thinking kissing Mr. Ackerman was a sane idea.

Other Eren didn’t.

And it seemed, neither did Levi.

My lips touched Levi’s in a soft caress, the skin of my lips barely pressing against Levi’s. Both of our bodies were shaking and Eren was causing an uproar in my head. Emotions I’ve never felt before drowned my senses and I felt like I was going to die. I was drowning in Eren’s feelings and I was scared.

Levi brought his hands up and cupped my cheeks. His thumbs slid over the tear streaks and he chuckled. “Stupid brat. Why are you crying?” His lips pressed more onto mine and I felt his hot wet tongue trace my lower lip.

“I missed you,” Eren’s voice trembled. “I’ve waited… for so long. I forgive you.” More tears ran down my face.

What? I’m thoroughly confused when Levi whispers back, almost frantic.

 “Don’t talk about that.” His lips return to mine roughly, trying to silence the words I could feel Eren start to say. His lips are soft on mine, yet solid. My back is pressed more onto the brick wall behind me when Levi presses himself flush against me. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, asking for entrance.

It’s not like I don’t find Levi attractive. Trust me, I do. But when I felt his tongue probing my mouth I wanted to bite it off. He wasn’t kissing me! He was kissing a part of me that shouldn’t exist! I mentally clawed at other Eren, trying to regain my rightful place inside my own head, but he was pushing me down. I couldn’t control anything, so I had to experience firsthand what Levi’s tongue tasted like when my tongue willingly—but really _unwillingly_ —met his.

His mouth tasted like tobacco. Tobacco and cinnamon gum. I’m not sure if I like the mixture much because the sense I was getting from other Eren was that he _really_ liked it. Eren loved it. He loved Levi’s mouth. My tongue slid wetly over Levi’s and my hands rested on Levi’s waist. My fingers wrapping around and holding him against me. Levi’s hands on my face trailed up into my hair and gripped at the roots, pulling lightly. I started to nibble at Levi’s lips. I couldn’t deny the little thrill I felt when he gasped into my mouth.

Levi pulled back. “Eren. You remember everything?”

“Yes,” he answered. He was slipping. I can feel it. Eren was falling away and I was coming back. I was starting to feel my body, and Eren was starting to panic. “Levi…” I couldn’t help but be impressed with how hard he was trying to stay in control. I was throwing my whole being into trying to be back in control of _my fucking body._

Levi’s eyes narrowed, “What’s wrong?”

Eren slipped away and I replaced him, but not before he uttered one word.

“Corporal.”

Then, I shoved him away.

I could feel other Eren yelling at me. My head felt like it was about to split in half. I reached up and pressed the palms of my hands against my temples and squeezed, trying to keep my head together. Levi was looking at me with wide eyes, bewildered. I probably looked like an animal. I didn’t care. Eren would not shut the fuck up and he was _killing_ me.

“Shut up! Shut up! _Shut up!_ ” I screamed.

Levi reached out a hand toward me. His expression still so open and scared. “Eren?”

“Get away from me!” I barked, my lips curling up, revealing my teeth. I don’t know why I was so afraid of him to touch me. Was it because if he did other Eren would resurface, or if he touched me _I_ would want to kiss him, I don’t know. But I can still taste him on my tongue and feel his hot hands on my cheeks.

I had to get out of here.

I ran. I turned from Levi and ran, with my hands still pressed up against my head. I ran past the front door of _Pixis’ Classics_ , past the watching teenagers flocking around the coffee shop. I ran down the road to where I parked my car.

“Eren!” I heard Levi yell behind me, confused, his voice full of emotion.

_Corporal…_

I shut the car door behind me and drove home as fast as I could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i hope you enjoyed this. i wasn't sure if i wanted it this story to turn in this direction, but what the hell i like it my sister liked it, it's interesting and i have ideas. 
> 
> but can i say poor eren.. poor levi.. my babies D':


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy!

It’s with little awareness that I notice Mom’s car isn’t in the driveway. I barely give the thought as to where she could be before I fling myself from the car and into my house. Ripping my shoes off and throwing my keys somewhere in the direction of the kitchen, I run upstairs. I just know I have to get to my room _now._ My room where there is no windows. My room where I can scream as loud and long as I can because no one is here to hear me, expect Eren, and he’s screaming pretty fucking loud.

The slam of my door is almost as loud as my breathing. My chest is heaving and tears are running down my cheeks. My back is pressed against the door and I can feel the rapid beating of my heart. I’m so scared. I think I’m dying.

_He won’t shut up._

My knees give out on me and I sink to the floor, gripping my thumbing chest with one hand while my other pulls at the hair on my temple. Black spots are popping up on the screen of my vision and I’ve never had a panic attack before, but I think this is what they feel like.

I’ve been told to just try and breathe in situations like these, but that is the last thing on my mind.

“Stop,” I gasp, the word half stuck in my throat, “please. I’m dying.” Tears are thick and salty in my throat.

I can feel him growl at me. It’s like a deep rumbling in my head, unpleasant and aching.

A sob escapes my lips and I bury my face in my knees, my arms wrapping around my legs. I can feel myself shrinking, getting smaller and smaller with each passing second of feeling Eren’s hatred for me. It’s so thick I can taste it past my tears, like rusty metal.

That’s when I notice my lips are bleeding profusely.

With a light flick of my tongue, I feel a deep gash on my bottom lip and a small slit on my top one. I’ve never been one for biting my lips, but I had to contain my breakdown in the car somehow. I’m actually surprised I didn’t get into a car accident. A ten minute ride is a long drive for a guy who’s dying.

Which I’m pretty sure I am.

_I had him. He’s mine._

“Please.” I whisper.

The uproar in my head continues and I lie down on my side, pressing my face against the cold hardwood floor. Tears drip down my nose and pool around me. A small part of me wish it was my own blood, my life dripping out of me instead of my sanity, because at this point, I just want it to end. Never in my life have I ever felt the second presence in my head be this bad.

_I hate you._

I hate me, too, right now.

_I love him._

Who are you talking about? Mr. Ackerman? What the fuck.

“Please, no.” I sob.

My legs move involuntarily. I feel myself sit up and crawl to my night stand. By this point, I don’t even care that Eren has control over my body. He can have my body, I just want _out._

My fingers fumble uncoordinatedly around the surface of my side table until they brush the corner of my sketchbook. With a shaking hand, Eren seizes the book and drops it onto my lap. He slips and I’m in control. I look down at my sketchbook, bewildered, wondering why in the world Eren would take control just to drag me over here and drop a book full of dream sketches on me then willingly slip away. He was strong enough to stay in control. He knows that I had given up.

With trembling fingers, I open to the first page and see my rough sketches of bored-looking eyes. The next page is a sketch of a soft face with an upturned nose. Next was a scarf with two floating black dots, I know, indicating dark eyes. Each paper holds small drawings of the people I see in my dreams, of the people Eren lives with. Most of the pages are filled with incomplete pictures of Corporal. Every time I look down at my gradually better drawings of his eyes, my skins tingles more.

I know those eyes.

I was looking at them not only twenty minutes ago.

I shake my head in denial, a few stray tears rolling slowly down my wet cheeks.

 _Yes_

His presence has calmed. That one word is almost a gentle caress in my head.

“He’s my teacher,” I whisper shakily, my thumb brushing over the pencil marks on the paper. “He can’t be Corporal.”

_You said it first._

My thumb stops trailing the lines. Even though my bottom lip is throbbing like a motherfucker, I bite it gently, rolling it between my teeth. The pain a sharp stabbing that reminds me I’m alive, that I’m sitting on my goddamn floor, talking to a part of my subconscious that probably doesn’t really exist. The pain confuses me. Aren’t people crazy because they can’t feel pain?

_You’re not crazy._

Jesus Christ. I sigh, releasing my lip. My eyelids are too uncomfortably heavy that I have to take a long second to wipe away the tears and puffiness. I feel Eren stir around, though his anger has faded. My heart rate seems to be lowering, but thuds loudly, filling the room with the rhythmic beat. I wipe away the blood and tears on my chin.

_I miss him._

I can feel his remorse. It washes over me in thick waves.

My voice is low, “Is he why you’re more awake?”

At least I’m aware I’m crazy. That’s good, right?

_Everyone._

Everyone?

_You._

“Me?” I ask aloud.

_We’re different. We’re the same._

With as much strength as I can muster, I pull myself up onto my bed. When my cold skin rubs against my comforter a long sigh pierces the silence of my room.

“Different? Same?” I mumble. I can feel my energy slipping. My eyelids are growing heavier and heavier and holy shit. My bed is so comfortable and my body feels so tired and I’m mentally exhausted and a nap sounds like the best goddamn thing in the world. I close my eyes and feel my body shut down. I feel Eren stop stirring and I let go.

 

 

***

 

 

I’m aware I’m dreaming. That doesn’t happen. When I dream, I’m in Eren’s body instead of it being vice versa, and I act as Eren does, say what Eren would say, and just _be_ Eren. I’m the soldier who fights for humanity, when humanity is on the verge of killing me. I am fifteen, but more wise beyond my years. I am this boy who faces death countless times.

But now, I watch.

I see me. I see Eren, with two green eyes and chunky lumped hair. I see him at the age of a small child, hiding in the laundry basket as he waits for his mother to notice him. I watch Eren’s mother, with the face and voice of my mother, squeal and laugh, hitting Eren’s cheek playfully when he pops out, too impatient to wait for her. My heart fills with nameless emotions as I watch Eren giggle shamelessly, pleased at the fact that he can scare his mom.

_Next._

I’m ten, and it’s the beginning. I’ve seen this scene before, number upon number of times. I don’t even have to look up to know that a giant fleshless hand is gripping the top of the wall, steam hissing from the muscles. I watch myself stare up in horror, surrounded by people, standing close to two small children. I gasp.

I can see them clearly. There’s no heavy fog over their faces. Nothing is masking them from me. My eyes trace blatantly over their faces. The blond boy is more adorable than what I could ever imagine. Even with his fear in his face, his blue eyes shimmer in the light and his upturned nose looks like a poke-able button. His face screams innocence. His soft facial facets familiar, yet foreign simultaneously.  

The girl standing next to Eren is undoubtedly Mikasa. Same long black hair. Same almond eyes the color of coal. The red scarf hiding half her face, but I know who she is. She’s Eren’s sister. Eren’s friend. Eren’s protector—even though he grumbles that he doesn’t need one.

_Next._

They are all standing in lines. All of them. I know almost all of them.

“Connie Springer!”

“Jean Kirschtein!”

Ha, horseface got nailed in the head. Awesome.

“Sasha Braus!”

“Marco Bodt!”

“Armin Arlet!”

I literally feel like throwing up. No. Not him.

Everyone screams their names, minus a couple few like Eren, Mikasa, and from what I can see Annie, Reiner, and Bertl.

God. They are all here.

They’re faces are familiar in every way. I know them at school, but my whole entire being knows them in here, too. I’ve lived with them for as long as I can remember.

_Next._

I see him. Eren isn’t himself. His teeth are chumped down on the neck of the titan that swallowed Thomas, Eren’s arms missing and steaming, smaller meter titans nibbling on the skin of his torso and legs.

He is absolutely savage, but has grace like no other.

A few moments later I watch Eren lift himself from the steamy flesh. Mikasa runs. She cries.

My heart breaks for the both of them.

_Next._

Holy fucking shit that looks like it hurts.

I watch as Eren’s molar skids across the floor and stops at man’s feet. He stares at it like a titan is about to form around it.

I look back.

_There he is._

Corporal. I see him, I see him clearly for the first time.

His hair is shorter up front and he’s not wearing any eyeliner, but there he is.

Mr. fucking Ackerman.

I’ve been through this beating. I know how much it hurts. What I didn’t see was his face. Levi’s face.

Almost completely blank, the beginning show of disgust outlining his downward curved lips.

Disgust at Eren, or disgust at the violence toward Eren, I’ll probably never know.

_Next._

They are all dead. Petra, Erd, Gunther, Auruo.

Eren and Levi are sitting side by side, shoulder touching shoulder, on Eren’s bed in the dungeon. Eren is looking at his hands—I know he’s imagining their blood on them—and Levi is looking at the lit torch hanging up on the other side of the room. Neither one of them are saying a word.

They had just burned the squad’s bodies.

I know, that at this point, Levi and Eren has already traded words of guilt and discouragement. I know that that didn’t ease Eren’s mind at all.

“Did you love her?” Eren asks suddenly, cracking into the tense silence like a whip. “Petra, I mean.”

Levi turns his head and eyes Eren irritably. “I didn’t need you to clarify that, shithead.”

Eren’s head hangs lower. “I apologize, Corporal.”

Levi sighs, his eyes never leaving Eren’s face.

Wow, Eren must have been an idiot if he didn’t realize Levi felt something for him at this point. The way Levi was gazing at Eren’s hunched form, and the twitching of his fingers, I know that Levi wants to touch him.

“It’s okay. To answer your question,” Levi’s voice falters the tiniest bit, “no. I didn’t love her, not like that, at least.”

“Oh,” Eren stupidly says.

Wow, A plus vocabulary you have there, Eren.

Eren suddenly snaps his head up and locks eyes with Levi’s. Eren’s green eyes shining because of unshed tears. “Corporal, I--.”

“If you fucking say you’re sorry, I swear to the wall I’ll kill you.” Levi snaps.

Eren’s crazed expression is little warning when he suddenly reaches out and grips Levi’s thin shoulders. “Then tell me what to say to make it better!”

“Don’t say anything, you goddamn brat. Don’t say anything at all.” Levi leans forward and seals Eren’s lips with his own.

_Next._

“Listen,” he suddenly speaks, surprising soft, even more surprisingly uneven, “this isn’t going to be a simple fuck.”

“I know.” Eren whispers.

“I’m serious, kid. After this is done, you are mine.”

I can see Eren swallow roughly. “You were never just a fuck to me.”

His eyes soften considerably. It’s quiet for a few seconds before he opens his mouth, “Yes, it seems it wasn’t like that for me either.”

“I-I love you.”

Him still being fully clothed and me being not right in front of him, I can still practically see his heart break. “You shouldn’t.”

_Next._

Smith stands in front of Eren. This time, I’m shocked to see Eren aged. His face is rougher around edges, rougher than mine, and if I have to guess I’d say Eren was twenty-five.

He was behind bars and chained to the wall.

Holy shit. I’ve never seen this before. I’ve never really gotten past the age sixteen. Why the hell is Eren chained up?

I wasn’t even surprised Smith was there. He fucking belongs here, not at a goddamn high school.

“Eren…” Smith begins.

“Permission to speak freely, Commander Smith.” The tone of Eren’s voice shocks me. It’s hard. Emotionless. Cold.

But somehow I now, underneath all that, he’s heartbroken.

“Permission granted.” Smith replies.

“I want Levi to do it.”

Smith sighs. I watch as Smith wrinkles is face in displeasure. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

Eren doesn’t utter a word, but continues to stare powerfully at the blond man.

“He’ll refuse.” Smith then says.

“Remind him that he took full responsibility of me.”

“That was ten years ago.”

Eren then breaks. I see a tear fall down his cheek. “I just… I want a grip on _something._ I want to at least know… at least know that…” His body is racked with sobs. The chains rustle when he moves his hands to his eyes, rubbing them furiously.

“I’ll try and talk to him.” Smith speaks, almost gently. “Eren, I’ve come to regard you fondly over the years.”

“Me as well, Commander.” Eren cries.

Smith breathes in deeply and stands up straighter, taller. He looks like a fucking titan compared to the crumbled, shaking man in front of him.

“Okay. As your dying wish, I’ll get Levi to agree. You have my word as a fellow fighter for humanity.”

“Thank you, sir.”

_Next._

 

 

***

 

 

I jerk awake when I hear the front door slams shut. Through the door I can hear Mom in the kitchen, singing loudly. I stare at my door, wide eyed. A violent shiver at the top of my spine tumbles down. My whole body engulfs in chills.

_Now you see._

My fingers claw at the skin above my heart. Its beating way too fast.

Everything. I can remember everything.

No blurry after thought. No fleeting image of a pair of gray eyes or a red scarf. Every detail in my memory crisp and sharp. Every name I heard. Every word that was uttered. I remember it all.

I can barely hear the footsteps on the stairs when I lean over and vomit.

“Eren?” Mom’s voice questions behind the door.

My stomach continues to empty itself. I feel tears swell on the lip of my eyes, then fall. My tears mix with the vomit on the floor, where my sketchbook lies.

My door opens. “Eren! Sweetie!” Mom yells, terrified. She hurries over, angling her body away from my stream of bile. Her rich perfume invades my nostrils and I gag again. I feel her solid, real, _alive_ hand in between my shoulder blades. I can feel Eren react positively to Mom’s touch.

“My poor baby.” Mom whimpers. She hates when I’m sick.

My throat is raw by the time I’m done vomiting. But tears still continue to fall.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling sick?” Mom whispers. She nudges my shoulder with her nose. Her warmth soaking into me through our clothing and it feels fucking heaven sent.

I turn to her and throw my arms around her shoulders.

“Eren?” she asks, a touch of fear in her voice. I haven’t cried in front of her in years.

“I’m not sick. Just a bad dream.” I mumble. I press my face into the warm skin of her neck. Her perfume still overwhelming, but I can deal. I need the comfort of my mother.

My mother who is still alive. My mother who look exactly like Eren’s mother who sacrificed herself to the teeth of a titan to make sure her son was safe.

Eren mourns with me.

_We are the same._

Mom whispers soft, loving words to me.

_But we are different._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this chapter was really really hard to write because i hate seeing my baby in pain. I hope you guys enjoyed it. I really really do!
> 
> I know there's a lot of pain, but I swear, happy times are coming!!!
> 
> my friend read this and she liked it and she said now the pressure's on and OH GOD.
> 
> :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right now it's unedited, and I'll edit it tomorrow, but I really wanted to update it today. Enjoy!

Everything hurts. The lights in this goddamn classroom are too bright. They’re burning my eyes and painting the inside of my head, illuminating the emptiness, reminding me that I haven’t heard Eren whisper anything in more than twenty-four hours. The once familiar feeling of being mostly alone in my own head now feels foreign. It’s almost like there’s a giant hole in my mind, growing bigger and bigger with each passing second I don’t hear Eren whisper to me.

I still don’t know what to make of the dreams.

I look up from my desk and watch the back of Armin’s head. He isn’t wearing a ponytail today, so his blond hair is tumbling down his slender shoulders and upper back, coming to a soft rest below his shoulder blades. I can see the side of his face; pointed, rugged. A small upturned nose.

My stomach twists.

There is no doubt in my mind that Armin Arlert is the blond boy I’ve been dreaming about since before I could walk. His nose and big blue eyes are unmistakable. The way he moves his body, in an almost childish, petite way, afraid to look too big, mirrors the movements of Armin in my dreams. Everything about day Armin resembles night Armin except for the added years on Armin’s face.

My heart feels heavy.

Then why did it take Eren finally showing the crisp details of the dreams to me enough evidence to make the connection?

I growl inwardly, irritated at myself. It isn’t just Armin either. _Everyone is almost the exact same._ Jean is still an overconfident douchebag, Reiner is still a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, Marco is still the soft speaking sweetheart, and Connie and Sasha are still the jokesters. 

I look away from Armin, my cheeks reddening in frustration.

Why am I even thinking this? The Eren in my head probably isn’t even real. The people I have been dreaming about could only be so similar to real people because I’m making up the relations. Making them up so I can try to understand something that’s not making sense and not believe something extraordinary is happening. Something that shouldn’t be happening.

I’m not big on religion, never have and never will, but the possibly of… maybe?

No. Nope. Never. Can’t happen.

Maybe I’m schizophrenic? I read on the internet that signs of schizophrenia start to show when you reach the age of eighteen through twenty-one. Auditory schizophrenia is the most common of the disorder. The Eren that whispers in my ear could be the projection of a chemical imbalance in my brain.

I clench my fist around my pencil, putting a stop to my reasoning. I’ve felt Eren tickling the back of my consciousness since I was a child. He’s always been there. Waiting. Observing. I would feel his emotions over my own sometimes. I’d black out and he’d slip into control, most of the times lasting seconds before I took back myself.

I chew my lip. Maybe Dissociative Identity Disorder?

The classroom telephone rings, interrupting Ms. Ral’s lesson. I don’t even look up, being as I wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying in the first place.

Yeah… I could have multiple personalities. Well, ‘multiple’ being one more. 

It takes me a second to notice Ms. Ral saying my name. I look up from my desk, releasing my lip from my teeth. I’ve done that so much in the past twenty-four hours that the wounds on my lips keep reopening and bleeding everywhere.

“Eren, Mr. Smith would like to see you in his office.” Ral says, replacing the phone back onto the hook.

Armin turns to look at me with concerned eyes. I offer him a small smile of reassurance.

 In the back of the room I hear Connie open his mouth. “Ohhhhhhh, Jaeger’s gonna have his ass handed to him.”

I don’t think the Connie in my dreams is this obnoxious.

The room snickers, minus Armin and Annie, which doesn’t really count because she never shows emotion unless Bert or Reiner is around. And of course Ms. Ral doesn’t snicker. “Connie, shut up before I send you down instead.” She turns to me with an encouraging smile. “He said you weren’t in trouble.”

I nod and lift myself from my seat. I feel a drip of blood drip from my bottom lip. Ms. Ral’s eyes widen.

“Are you hurt, Eren?”

I shrug and hang my head. I can feel all their eyes on me. I walk past Armin, whose eyes are following me, pinched with concern and I hate that. He shouldn’t be concerned for me. He shouldn’t ever be concerned for me. He’s doesn’t look like it, but he’s fragile.

It’s only second nature for me to want to protect him.

I open the door. “I’m fine, Ms. Ral. Just a small cut.” I close the door behind me. I swipe my tongue along my lip and collect the small droplet of blood and wipe the little amount off my chin with the back of my hand. My teeth graze my thumb and I shudder.

I know what it feels like to dig my teeth into the meaty part of my thumb. To taste the metallic tang of blood on my tongue.

I know what it feels like to be exploded in a flash of lightening. To feel my body be swallowed by tendons and muscles, by steaming flesh that wraps around a frame that appeared out of nowhere. I know what it’s like to close my eyes at a normal height and open them up at fifteen meters tall.

I know what it’s like to feel like a monster.

And I don’t know if it’s real or not.

The halls are empty as I make my way to the main offices. I let my feel drag because the last place I want to be is in Smith’s office, where he’s likely to talk about titans and shit. Actually, I change my mind. I’d rather discuss in full detail about titans and all their _wonderful_ features with Smith than see Levi.

My heart aches and I have an idea why.

I tried. I tried really, really hard. Saturday night and all day Sunday I tried my goddamn best not to think of him. Not to think about him and his eyeliner, how he tasted like cigarettes and freedom. How he even made _my_ heart race, and not just Eren’s. I tried not to think about how Eren told him he loved him and the pained expression on his face in response. I tried not to think about the emotion I felt from Eren while he pressed his lips ever so softly against Levi’s for the first time, backed up against the wall of an old bookstore building.

I tried not to think about how I ran away from him, scared, disgusted, and heartbroken. I can still hear his confused, hurt voice screaming my name as I ran away in my ears, reminding me that not only am I hurt and confused, but so is he.

And it’s all Eren’s fault.

Why did Levi even kiss me? Why did he say my name so lovingly when Eren mentioned monsters. Why did he rub my tears away and laughing shakily when Eren cried tears of joy? Why does the thought of him loving Eren make my teeth grind in jealousy?

He’s beautiful, but he’s a dick. He’s short, but his attitude makes up for it. His indifference is infuriating, expect for when Eren makes an appearance. The only time I’ve ever seen Levi with humanly emotion dusting his eyes and face is when I’m not in control, when Eren says something tempting and rude, or soft and lovingly. Levi never once reacted to _me._

And that makes me see red.

I’ve thought about it over the past twenty-four hours, and the only conclusion I could ever come up with is that maybe Levi has had dreams too. Maybe there’s two Levi’s, and the night Levi comes out when Eren does. Maybe Mr. Ackerman is a victim too.

I sigh heavily. I just don’t have a goddamn clue.

A lady sitting at the desk in the main office waves to me as I past her to walk to Smith’s door. It’s slightly cracked and I hear soft murmuring from inside.

“…doesn’t have any reason to lie.” Smith says, his voice deep and thoughtful.

“Erwin, you know him. He devastated by this whole thing. He just wants him back.” A familiar female voice I can’t seem to place at the moment replies.

“I believe it. I have my own proof.”

The female sighs. “Sometimes you like to see things that aren’t really there.”

“Hanji,” Smith snaps in warning, clearly fed up with Hanji’s arguing.

I tap my knuckles against the door. It’s silent in the room for a moment before Smith speaks up.

“Come in, Eren.” he orders, his voice louder and emotionless, the emotion from seconds before forgotten and dead. A shiver runs down my spine.

I push open the door and stop in confusion. I knew Hanji was with Smith, but not…

“Eren,” Mikasa sighs, looking up at me with wide, hopeful eyes swimming with unshed tears. A tugging at my heart is almost near painful.

“Eren!” Hanji smiles up at me and walks around the desk where she was standing next to Smith and reaches out to take my hand. “Good morning.”

I look past both females and connect gazes with Smith. His blue eyes are stony and show nothing. “I’m confused,” I say.

Smith cracks a half—obviously forced—smile. “No worries. Please,” he gestures to where Mikasa is sitting. She quickly stands up and stands in front of a bookshelf, “take a seat.”

My eyes flicker up to Hanji beside me and she nods excitedly, watching me with wide, hopeful eyes that match Mikasa’s, minus the unshed tears. My skin feels too tight on my body and the hairs on my arms and neck stand on end. I feel uncomfortable in this room filled with these people who are looking at me like they want something.

Mikasa’s gaze follows my every move, every twitch on my body. I can feel the burning sensation of her stare and it feels so familiar. When my butt is firmly seated in the ridiculous plushy chair I turn to look up at the girl. She’s biting the inside of her cheek, undoubtedly wanting to say something. And in that moment, I have an inkling of what this meeting could be about.

Levi reacting to Eren. Armin—everyone—being real outside my dreams. Mikasa watching me with such tenderness and love. Smith going on and on about titans, _of all fucking things._

Suddenly the theory that I shut down before I could even think of in Ms. Ral’s class is looking more and more likely.

I stiffen. Ms. Ral. Petra. Fuck.

_I can’t believe it._

“You’re not in trouble, Eren.” Hanji speaks lightly behind me. She walks back behind Smith’s desk to stand next to him, who is observing me silently and collectedly. “But Mr. Smith, Mikasa, and I would like to ask you a couple things.”

My heart is beating _way_ too fast.

No. No no no no no. It can’t be.

I open my mouth. “I-is it true?” I’m gripping the arms of the chair tightly as I exclaim.

Mikasa smothers a sob behind her hand. I pay her no attention. My full focus is settled on the man before me who’s slowly lifting one eyebrow, his eyes finally coming to life.

“Is what true?” Smith asks slowly.

I swallow. Hanji is looking at me with wide eyes, her mouth twitching up into a quivering grin. Smith is regarding me intensely, encouraging me to answer. I don’t need to look at Mikasa to know she’s not emotionally stable right now.

My mouth is dry and my tongue feels too big in my mouth.

“Is what true?” Hanji repeats, eagerness leaking from her soft spoken question.

I open my mouth, “D-do you have dreams too?”

Smith’s eyes widen and Hanji looks dejected.

_On no. I fucked up. It’s true, I’m crazy._

“What?” Mikasa whispers.

I feel numb except for the beating of my heart. I look away from the man and woman in front of me, who are looking at me with such hopelessness and disappointment and I have no idea why.

They’re not the only ones disappointed. For a split second, I thought I wasn’t alone.

“What dreams, Eren?” Hanji asks, her tone surprisingly soft and gentle.

Unwanted emotion swims in my head, clogging my nose and filling my eyes. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want them to see how crazy I actually am.

For the first time in my life I want Eren to say something for me.

“Eren,” Smith speaks sharply.

“D-dreams,” I whisper, licking my lips, “about titans.”

I refuse to look up when I hear movement in front of me. I don’t even look up when I see feet appear in my line of vision. A small hand gently rests on my knee while the body it belongs to crouches down, leveling with me. The other hand—equally as gentle and kind—taps the bottom of my chin and lifts my face up.

Mikasa’s face is close to mine. It reminds me of when we first met. Then, I was emotional as well and she was crouching down. Her eyes had scanned my face, asking questions that her lips couldn’t. Now isn’t any different. She regards me as a mother would her wounded child. As a lover would at a broken heart. Her hand is warm on my face, warm on my knee. I can feel her gentle worriedness through the fabric of my jeans.

I’ve witness a gaze and touch like this before, coming from a girl who looked exactly like the one in front of me.

Her gaze changes each second she looks at my face. Her eyes land on my right one. The gold one.

“Are you Eren?” She whispers.

My eyes flicker above her head and see Hanji and Smith exchange a wide eyed glance. Clearly they’re surprised at Mikasa’s question.

I’m not. Somehow, I know what she’s asking.

“No,” I whisper back, returning my stare to hers.

Her eyes close and her eyebrows furrow. I see her bottom lip tremble.

I open my mouth, “But I know you.”

All eyes are on me now.

“You’re Mikasa Ackerman. Eren’s sister.” I look above her head again and make eye connect with Smith. I breathe in shakily. “Commander Erwin Smith.” I look at Hanji. “Squad Leader Hanji Zoe.”

With each word my voice shrinks smaller and smaller. More unconfident. More scared. What if I’m wrong? I’m probably wrong. Holy shit I’m fucking _wrong._

“What’s your name?” Smith suddenly asks, breaking the silence like a hammer to a sheet of ice.

“Eren Jaeger.” I answer, confused. God I wish the beating in my chest would _slow the fuck down_.

“But you just said ‘Eren’s sister’. Implying that she’s not _your_ sister.” His voice is low, yet not intimidating, he sounds like he’s trying to put me at ease, to not scare me away.

“I know,” I reply quietly. Here I go. “She’s the Eren-inside-my-head’s sister.”

Mikasa’s hands release my chin and slide off my knee. My skin feels cold. I feel cold.

Hanji speaks up, “Two Erens?”

I ignore her and watch Smith. “Just fucking tell me if it’s true.” I don’t really give a shit if I cursed in front of the principal. Send me to detention. Expel me. I don’t care, just give me solid ground I can walk on.

Smith’s quiet for a second. His blue, hard gaze burning holes into my multicolored ones. Mikasa and Hanji both shuffle around, either uncomfortably in the tense atmosphere, or comfortable that I’m about to get in trouble.

“Yes.”

That single word.

There’s a weight on my shoulders I’ve never felt before. I’ve never noticed it, never acknowledged that something gravely important sat on me and weighed me down. I’ve never detected the weight until it was gone.

_And it was._

I slump back into the chair, letting my body be half swallowed by the weird cushions. I can feel my heart in my throat and I’m breathing really, really, _really_ heavily. My brain is in a frenzy, though not because Eren is causing a riot. I can’t even feel him. He’s not here. All the thoughts that are flashing around and all the internal sensations that are burning my heart right now are all mine.

“I’m not crazy,” I whisper, a half smile of relief painting my bruised lips.

“Eren,” Hanji speaks slowly, “what did you mean ‘the Eren inside my head’?”

The small bubble of short-term bliss pops. I look at Hanji.

“Isn’t there two of you? The Hanji now and the Hanji…” Everyone is looking at me wide eyed, “…back then?”

“No, Eren. There’s only one of me. The me back then and the me now. The same.”

_We’re the same._

_Yet we’re different._

The sudden appearance of Eren makes me gasp. His manifestation weighing down my mind and replacing the hole I was feeling earlier. I clench my fist in surprise at the feelings I’m receiving from him. A red hot mist that swirls over and over, revealing a solid wave of fury. My vision goes blurry.

I slip.

“I was protecting him,” Eren snaps, the words leaving my mouth in a sharp snarl.

“Eren!” Mikasa gasps, her eyes wide and tears circling in them again. She reaches out and grabs my hands.

But I know she isn’t grabbing me.

“Mikasa,” Eren says, still angry, but slightly calmer. I feel what he feels. And it’s homesickness. “Mikasa, I’m sorry.”

“Eren, this is the one inside your mind?” Smith asks, staring at me blankly, except for the enlarging of his eyes.

“Eren can’t answer right now, but yes. It’s me, Erwin.” Eren straightened out my back was sitting up straight, looking Smith respectably in the eyes.

Like a soldier.

“This… this… This is fascinating! Eren! What did you mean by ‘I was protecting him’? Have you always been locked in there with the other one? Who’s more dominate? Can I look you over?” Hanji exclaims. I notice she pulls out a tiny flashlight from her back pocket.

_Fuck. That’s creepy._

“Hanji, stop. You’re freaking him out.” Eren retorts.

“But Eren! No one that remembers is like this! Why are you a special case? In fact, you’re the only one out of _all of us_ who look different! Your eyes! Is it your eyes? Oh wait… your right eye? Isn’t that the eye--?”

“Hanji!” Eren shoves to his feet. Mikasa maneuvers out of his way, watching in a silent shock up at Eren. “Do not speak a word,” he hisses through my teeth. The red hot mist is back, filling up every curve and dip of my body. I’m drowning. I’m drowning again.

_Stop! Stop! Please._ My heart hurts. My head hurts. My body isn’t mine. My body isn’t yours.

“Eren, Levi—,” Hanji begins again.

Eren interrupts again, though his anger is slowly being replaced with a deep sadness, I kind of prefer the anger. “He’s the reason. If it wasn’t for him, Eren would have continued to be happy. But I’m selfish. I’m sorry, Eren,” he whispers the last part.

_I’m really sorry._ Eren thinks at me. Then he slips.

My knees buckle and Mikasa barely grabs me.

I feel something hot slide down my cheeks and I’m not surprised to realize that it’s tears. Whether they’re mine or Eren’s, I have no idea, because right now, both parts of me, of us, are crying. I keep hearing an echo of Eren’s apology ring in the inner walls of my brain.

I need it to stop of I’m going to break.

I press the heels of my hands on my temples, very much like I did in front of Levi days ago. Instead, this time, I’m holding him in. If he leaves again, I’m going to break. I won’t be the same. He said he was protecting me. I don’t even need any explanation as to what he was protecting me from.

His past. _My_ past.

Now that I know I’m not crazy, that other people have lived through the living hell of walking, man-feasting monsters like Eren and a small part of myself has, Eren’s presence isn’t entirely unwanted.

_I wanted a childhood. I gave you it. I wanted a mother. I let you have her. I don’t deserve one._

“Eren,” my voice breaks when I whisper.

I’m vaguely aware that Hanji and Mikasa are both talking to me right now. Mikasa concerned, Hanji exclaiming in an excited speech. Smith is the only one not moving, not talking. The only one observing. At least, that I could see.

“Four eyes, shut the fuck up. Mikasa, get away from him.” A voice that paints the nerves in my body alight sounds from behind me.

Eren and I both stop our inward breakdown. I turn and there he stands.

_Levi._ Eren speaks his name lightly, in fear and affection.

“Levi,” I whisper, many emotions clashing against each other under my surface. In that moment I realize my affection for Levi isn’t just leftover from Eren’s. No. How can I doubt that when he’s looking at me with pain filled eyes. Looking at _me_. Not Eren. I don’t know how I know. But I know. And so does Eren.

Levi walks into the room. Everyone’s eyes are on him.

He stops in front of me.

My knees are still resting on the floor, holding up my crumpling body. I don’t know if Levi wants me to stand or not, so I make to try to stand on my shaky legs. Levi stops me with a hand on my shoulder and drops to his knees in front of me. His eyes are burning flaming holes into my skull.

“I’m assuming you’re not my Eren.” He asks, speaking quietly, almost emotionlessly.

“Yes,” I whisper. His hand is still resting on my shoulder.

His gaze scans my face, analyzing every pore and hair. After a second he speaks. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You kissed Eren.” I want so badly to touch him. Both Eren and I need his warmth. His touch.

“Your body though.”

I shake my head.

“You ran away from me, you brat.” Levi snaps, his voice hardening and his eyes losing passion. 

“I was scared, but I’m not now. I’m not crazy.”

_I love you_. Eren cries.

“You should be scared of me. Does Eren show you your memories?”

I nod.

“All of them?” Levi raises one thin eyebrow.

_Please no. Levi, no. I’m sorry. No._

“Did Eren say something?” Levi asks calmly. I don’t like this. Calm as he is, he’s stone now. He’s nothing but air in front of me. I can’t reach him or affect him.

“How do you know?” My lips tremble.

“It shows all over your face. It doesn’t matter who’s in control, both of you brats are shit at concealing your feelings.”

My breathing hitches.

“So, did he? Did he show all of them?”

I think about the dreams I’ve had all my life. Most of them were fuzzy. So fuzzy and unclear. Was that because Eren was trying to prevent me from seeing them? To protect me? I think about the memories he let me see the other day, vivid and identifiable. I think about the last one where I was locked up in a cell, older. Asking for Levi to do _something_.

“N-no.”

_Im so sorry, Levi. I’m so sorry._ Eren is the cause of a typhoon that’s raging inside me.

“H-he says he’s sorry.” I breathe.

The wall hiding Levi from me crumbles a little, only enough for me to see a flash of misery in his gray eyes, until it disappears and it’s like I’m speaking to air again.

“Levi,” Smith says from his desk, still watching, still observing. Levi's hand on my shoulder slides up until his fingers slides into my hair and his thumb rests under my right eye. 

“Eren, you should leave this school.” Levi finally says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Chapter. Was. Hella. Hard. Jfc. I'm so sorry it took longer than usual to update. I just had no motivation to write until my two friends (Alex and Terra) scolded me into writing. So thank them. 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. :D
> 
> Also! I wrote a Eren/Levi oneshot on here called "Battle of the Bands: This is War". It's pretty good (I think) and it's definitely more happy and smuty than this one! Ha. So go check it out.
> 
> Fly my children! Embrace the sweet sweet horizon!~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, so I'm still alive. Currently not edited, so bear with it. Enjoy chapter nine! :D

I can see it. It’s there, hidden behind walls and buried under layers and layers of rubble placed there by time and misfortune, but I can see it. I see the love he has for Eren. It’s a burning candle that hasn’t been blown out yet. The flame is flickering pathetically, but it continues to burn; continues to light the darkness that surely wants to engulf the man in front of me. I can see the love he holds dear to him dwindle each second he’s near me, talking to me, looking at _me._

Then when Eren emerges, when Eren touches him or speaks to him, the flame sparks brighter, warmer. He doesn’t look as cold. When Levi is in the presence of Eren, I can see the pain he feels that contradicts the complete and utter happiness that swells in his eyes. Eren sees it too. To be honest, that freaks Eren out. From what I can pick up from Eren’s sentiments, Levi has never been one to show his emotions. Never one to let slip that he’s actually feeling something that isn’t disgust. Eren doesn’t get it, though. And it sucks that I do.

Levi loves him, loves everything about Eren.

Except me.

I can feel Eren’s discomfort at my train of thought. I can feel that he neither agrees nor disagrees. Everything that has to do with Levi, Eren lets off signals of emotions. Both mountain top positive and depths of hell negative. Feelings I’ve never personally felt before, but the feeling has always been like a taste that’s stuck in the back of my throat. Eren _loves_ Levi. Anyone blind, stupid, or fucking _dead_ can see that. Levi can see that. I know him to be a very observing man. But the one thing that Levi doesn’t seem to see is that, maybe, just maybe, _I might love him, too_.

My eyes widen at the sudden revelation. Do I love Levi? The only man I have ever—mostly subconsciously—loved was Corporal. Corporal was the faceless man in my dreams. He was the one who haunted my soul and left imaginary imprints on my skin. I went to sleep most nights to live life with him. Yes, I didn’t know his name. Nor did I know his face, but my heart thumbed madly for the unnamed man that made my nerves set themselves on fire and who was a golden ray of light that broke the darkness of a hellish world.

My hearts beats for Corporal. And now that I have a face and name to glue to the man, does that mean I love him?

Levi’s steel gray gaze lingers on my face. The air between us is thick with unspoken words and feelings of regret and remorse. Levi’s body is stiff and still, like a statue that matches the color of his eyes. His eyes are vibrant though. Both Eren and I take notice on how alive Levi’s eyes seem. Wide, and screaming.

He’s beautiful.

How can I not love him? I’ve been fed leftover feelings and passion from Eren towards the man for fucking _years._ I remember every kiss and touch Levi and Eren has ever shared and I’ve experienced it firsthand. I’ve had a front row, splash zone seat to their whole relationship, and the imprint of Levi’s kiss still burns on my lips from the other day. His fucking scent is invading my senses right now, being that he’s so close to me, and it seems like the most natural thing in the world to breathe in his scent. It feels like it would be unnatural if I never smell this scent again. My body and mind are just so use to the mouthwatering aroma of Levi Ackerman. My heart is just so used to the exercise it receives when I’m near him.

Yes, he’s an asshole. Yes, he probably pretended not to know me when we first met. Fuck, if the roles were switched and I was in his position and ran into him, he who seemed he didn’t remember me, I wouldn’t want to remind him of a past that taints the world’s history. No matter if we shared mutual love during that time period or not. I would want him to keep his sanity and mourn from a distance.

Which Levi was probably doing until Eren decided to make an appearance and shatter his hard work. Really, Levi did a good job and making it seem like he hated me. Maybe he does, I don’t know. Maybe he hates _me_ because I’m keeping him away from his true reunion with his lover. I _wish_ I could feel bad. But like Eren, I’m selfish, too, and I want him.

And now he’s telling me he thinks I should leave? Leave the place where I’ve felt myself break, but, really, has never felt more whole. This school where everyone Eren and I have ever cared about is alive and well and not terrorized by titans. I met Armin here. Armin with his different styled long hair that frames his face and makes him a man, yet his eyes still send off impressions of childishness and innocence, though his smarts and attitude contradict them.

He’s suggesting that I leave Mikasa, who, I know, is watching the both of us attentively—well, more me than Levi—and is holding her breath to see my reaction. I just know she’s hoping the whole thing is a lie and that I’m really _her_ Eren. I mourn for her.

In a way, I am her Eren. Eren’s memories are mine, though I might not have lived through them directly. I’ve felt her gentle touch and received her probing, worried stare whenever Eren was in trouble or seemed hurt. Though she has never touched my skin, she has touched the mind of the other residence in my brain, and that makes her my family in some fucked up way.

Levi’s still gazing at me, waiting for me to reply.

He wants me to leave. Leave the school and everyone. I turn my eyes to look at Mikasa. I find her looking at Levi like he’s crazy. Crazy for even suggesting I leave.

Hanji makes a noise in the back of her throat, “Uh, Levi, why…?”

“Why did you say that?” I ask, my voice higher than normal; it’s probably because the emotions flowing through me and Eren are making my chest tighten. It’s really hard to breathe.

Levi’s hand on my face, his gentle thumb under my eye feels like fire licking my skin. His stoic eyes having the same affect. “Do I really need to explain?”

“Yes!” I cry. Why? Why is he saying this? Doesn’t he know he’s breaking Eren’s heart?

_Your heart._

I ignore Eren’s soft whisper.

Levi sighs, I feel him brush the pad of his thumb back and forth under my eye, once, twice before pulling away. I shiver at the loss of contact. The sudden fire being doused with buckets of cold water rejection. “Eren said it, didn’t he? It’s my fault. He wanted to protect you, but being near me prevented that.”

 _Levi, no._ Eren mourns sadly, but I don’t feel any disagreement towards Levi’s statement.

“You know what he was protecting you from, right?” Levi asks, holding my stare with unwavering eyes.

“His memories,” I whisper.

“But maybe,” Hanji begins, pulling me from the bubble that I had wrapped around myself and Levi. It’s a rude awakening remembering how many people are in the room, watching me. I turn to look at her and see that she’s regarding me intensely, stroking her index finger along her temple, “Eren’s memories are _your_ memories, hypothesizing that maybe the other Eren residing in your noggin,” she smiles a bit at her word play, “is just a way for your subconscious to cope. A form of post-traumatic stress disorder if you want to label it. Actually no… maybe dissociative disorder? Oh! Or maybe--!”

“Hanji, shut your hole,” Levi snaps.

“Levi, Hanji might be on to something,” Erwin retorts to Levi warningly.

“Yes!” Hanji nods crazily, her sloppy ponytail flailing aimlessly. “Because, really, if you think about it, Eren is the only one out of all of us who seems to be on the fence of being ignorant and recollecting. While we,” she gestures to everyone in the room minus me, “are black and the others, example, Armin,” her face drops a bit, “and Petra and such, are white, Eren you seem to be a perfectly blended gray. Are you following?”

“I-I’m trying,” I say, feeling like I could be swallowed in her wide brown eyes.

“You’re also the only one who looks different, like different characteristics.” She taps her finger under her right eye.

“Hanji…” Levi hisses, his voice warning and low. Deadly.

My annoyance perks up. Because not only had Eren prevented Hanji from talking about my right eye, but now Levi? What the hell is going on?

_Eren, stop. In time. Please, just let it be._

I’m shocked at the amount of pain that Eren packs in those whispered words. Feelings of regret and shame, fear and angry wash over me, coating every cell. I can feel a wall that’s being bricked up, block by block, between us, keeping me from reaching to him.

“No seriously! Levi, what did you say to Eren when--?”

“Hanji, if you don’t shut the hell up right now, I will shove your goddamn glasses _down your goddamn throat_!” Levi shouts, jumping to his feet and facing the wide eyed brunette. Levi’s ass is near my face and I don’t really need that right now, so I move to stand up as well. My knees are shaky and I’m swaying like a leaf. Mikasa hurries over and wraps an arm around my waist, supporting half of my weight.

I give her a small side smile of thanks and her eyes soften.

“Levi,” Erwin hisses. I look over at Erwin and can almost see the anger rolling off him. He’s seething, I can tell, but his body language and expression would never tip it off. “Levi, I think you should leave.”

“Why should I do that?” Levi hisses back.

Erwin inhales sharply before pushing from his desk and standing on his feet. He towers above Levi. Above all of us and I finally feel the air around him that drifted around him when he was a Commander. “You’re thinking irrationally. You’re lashing out. If Hanji has a way to figure this shit out, then do not interfere because of personal issues.”

“Personal issues? Lashing out?” Levi questions madly.

“Yes. You don’t have a grip on yourself at the moment, and honestly, you haven’t since the second Eren walked through the front doors.”

Levi steps forward and balls his fists. “You shit, you knew he was coming and you didn’t _tell_ me. Shouldn’t you have known this would be an outcome?”

Erwin leans back on his heels and regards Levi evenly. “Somewhat. I did not predict him having two minds trapped together, though.”

Levi threw his hands in the air, Mikasa pulled me back a few inches away from him. “Well, holy _fucking shit._ Erwin _fucking_ Smith doesn’t have the answers. Watch out Hanji, next it’ll be raining titans!”

“Levi…” I whisper. He’s cracking. Everything about Levi is cracking.

“Levi, leave!” Smith finally yells. He, too, has cracked.

The room is quiet for a moment. A heavy, awkward as hell, moment where Erwin and Levi are staring daggers at each other. Hanji looks absolutely stunned, which is shocking for her. But I don’t really blame her. We all did just witness Levi break his indifferent shell and leak insanity. Mikasa’s arm around me is probably the only thing that’s keeping me from walking over and folding Levi in my arms.

I know that it would feel just like taking a breath. Natural.

“Fine,” Levi finally says, his cold mask back in place, “but the kid doesn’t remember. So, as my one request, my _one goddamn request_ , don’t mention it.”

Hanji opens her mouth to speak but Erwin waves a hand at her, silencing her. “No promises, but we will try.” Hanji looks dejected.

Levi nods once and turns. His eyes meet mine for one second and all I see are gray walls. “Good,” he snaps, walking out of the door, closing it with a loud snap.

Mikasa’s arm tightens around me, pulling in to her body. Which is hard and familiar. “Are you okay?” she asks. Erwin and Hanji both turn to look at me. My face reddens, from embarrassment or frustration, I’m not sure, but my cheeks are warming rapidly.

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully, not really in the mood to lie and say that I was fine. My chest was pumping wildly and my mind was empty. Eren wasn’t talking right not, he wasn’t even present.

“Eren,” Hanji speaks softly, walking from Erwin’s side to stand in front of me. We stand eye to eye and her stare is strong and curious, yet I can see a pinch of regret and displeasure. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

There’s a giant stone that’s sitting in the pit of my stomach. I open my mouth but Erwin cuts me off.

“Hanji, let’s save that for another day. It’s early and,” he chuckles half-heartedly, “it’s also Monday. Eren,” he turns to me, “if you want to return home for the day, I’ll give you permission and will talk to your teachers about your attendance.”

“He’s right, Eren. You should go home.” Mikasa says carefully, I feel her body vibrate with her soft words.

Hanji, again, looks dejected but then nods in agreement after a moment’s thought.

I swallow roughly, “W-when will we talk again?”

Erwin smiles gently at me, “Don’t worry about that right now; just go get some rest.”

“But what about Eren?” I ask.

“What about you? You must be feeling many shades of confused and hurt.” Erwin says, sitting back down in his seat, looking as cool and collected as ever. It’s like he never snapped. Goddamn, he’s one hell of a rubber band. “We might be curious about the Eren we know, but for all we do know, he could be a projection of yourself you separated from so you could cope with the memories. The other Eren could still be _you_. We’ve all been dealt a shitty deal, but I regret to say that your hand was the worst.”

“What happened to him?” I hesitant, “To me?”

Mikasa inhales sharply, her arm that’s tight around me tightening more. She presses me more into her body and, almost as a reflex, I push away from her. Her arm drops, but she takes my hand.

“How much do you remember?” Hanji asks.

“How much has _Eren_ shown you?” Erwin rewords Hanji’s question. The way he says my—and his—name makes me slightly uncomfortable. Like he doesn’t believe me. Like he thinks I’m crazy and he’s only humoring me.

Eren remands quiet, letting me feel and analysis all that’s happening. He can be a goddamn brat sometimes.

“I… don’t know. When he finally _showed_ me something, it was like a series of clips. But instead of my dreams, I was an outsider. I was watching Eren live through them and not experiencing them myself. The… memories, I could tell, skipped around because one second it was Eren when he was a child playing with his mother to him as a titan biting the throat out of another.”

“What was the last thing he showed you?” Hanji asks, leaning in closer to me. Her breath framed my face and it smelt like syrup.

My skin crawls at the memory. “Um, I was older. Much older than I was used to seeing. I was chained to the wall in a cell. I was talking to you, Mr. Smith,” I met his eyes, “and I was asking something about wanting Levi to do it. I don’t know what _it_ means, though. The flow of memories, I guess, stopped after that one.”

Mikasa hisses through her teeth and squeezes my hand with her iron grip. Hanji’s face falters for a second but recovers. Erwin stays emotionless, as usual.

“And did I agree, Eren?” Erwin asks, lifting an eyebrow. He already fucking knows he did, but I answer anyway.

“Yeah.”

Erwin nods before opening his mouth. “And what were your dreams like? You mentioned that you experienced them? Like firsthand?”

I nod, “Yes. It was like I was in Eren’s head, watching everything he did through his eyes. Though, in the _dreams_ everything was blurry.”

“What do you mean by that?” Mikasa asks softly.

I turn my head to look at her. I’m not surprised to see her stoned face.

“Everything was blurry. I could never make out any definite details. I would forget the names and faces of everyone I dreamed about a few seconds after I woke up.”

Hanji’s eyes light up. “Explains why you didn’t recognize anyone. Though, I noticed you took an instant liking to Armin.”

I nod, unconsciously, “With him…” I pause, trying to find my words, “With Armin, it was like I felt him in my bones. Is that weird? The instant I laid eyes on him, I had to make him important.”

“No, that sounds plausible. Armin is a big part of your—Eren’s—make-up. It would feel natural wanting to be close to him.” Erwin explains, leaning back in his chair and letting out a sigh.

I turn to Mikasa. “A-and you, too. I felt,” I search for the word for a second, “normal around you. Easy.” I pat myself inwardly at my choice of words.

Mikasa’s eyes widen and her lower lip starts to tremble the slightest. Before I know it my body is being caged by her strong arms.

“Eren,” she whispers. Over and over she whispers my name. Her hand reaches up and entangles in the hairs at the nape of my neck.

My heart hurts a little at her touch, so I tell her. “I’m not your Eren.”

Mikasa shakes her head against my neck. “But you are. You’re the boy who saved me. Who gave me a home. Before the titans. Before Carla. I can feel it. You’re home, Eren.” I feel wetness on my skin and realize she’s crying.

I wrap my arms around her, holding her around her waist and pull her more into me.

I don’t have the heart to tell her I disagree, so I keep silent and let her breath in my scent.

It’s when Mikasa pulls back a few moments later, her face not showing any hints that she was crying expect the slight redness coloring the tip of her nose, Erwin waves me away, encouraging that I leave. Mikasa walks out the office with me, not saying anything, but walks close to me, glued to my side.

“I’ll tell Armin to visit you after school,” Mikasa suddenly says.

Surprised, I turn to look at her. “Why?”

“Because you’re stressed and he’ll be worried when you don’t go to class and I’m just going to, okay?”

I swallow. Suddenly heaps and heaps of emotions thicken in my throat and I feel like crying. “Thank you,” I whisper.

She just smiles warmly at me.

We part ways when she turns to go to her second period class—the bell rung sometime during the intense meeting in Erwin’s office, and I didn’t hear the bell, that should say something about how strongly I was feeling and shit—and I made my way to my locker to grab my car keys and bag. When I turn the corner to the senior locker bay where my locker is located I see Annie and Bert standing, facing each other, seeming to be having a telepathic conversation. They weren’t saying anything, but Bert was sweating and fidgeting under Annie’s stare.

They both look up when they hear my footsteps.

“Hello, Eren,” Annie says, speaking out uncharacteristically. Usually she nods whenever we make eye contact or sit together at lunch.

“Hey.”

Something about the air around them doesn’t feel completely right. It’s like rubbing against the fur, not with it.

“Did you just get back from Smith’s office?” Annie asks, angling her body to face me. Bert does that same, but his eyebrows pinch together. He looks uncomfortable.

“Yeah… What’s wrong?” I direct the question towards the sweaty fellow in front of me.

Bert’s eyes widen. “Nothing. Just, uh, don’t wanna go to class.”

I nod, not believing him, but don’t question him. Not my business.

“What did Smith want with you?” Annie asks, catching my attention. I narrow my eyebrows at her sudden pushiness and look at her. Her face has a bored expression on it, but her eyes dance with the tiniest light.

“Just newcomer stuff again. He wants to make sure I’m comfortable here.” I lie, surprised at how easily the lie rolls off my tongue.

Annie just hums in response.

“Well, I’m heading home. Don’t feel too good.” I say, in desperate need to escape the tense, awkward atmosphere around us.

“Are you sick?” Bert asks quickly, his facial expression shifting from nervous to worried.

“Not really, just have a headache.” Which I guess is kinda true. I could use an Anvil and a nap.

Annie nods, the small light in her eyes dying. She turns to Bert. “Well, feel better. Come on, we better get to class.” She taps Bert’s shoulder before walking past me. Bert looks to me with a shaky smile and nods his head in departure before following her.

I stand there, listening as their footsteps grow fainter and fainter and just bask in the afterglow of the weirdness of that encounter. Annie and Bert aren’t the most social people in the world, but goddamn that was really weird. I’ve noticed they’re standoffish from everyone. Well, everyone but Reiner. They both flock to him. I’ve noticed that Bert’s gaze lingers longer on Reiner, and Annie looks at him almost like Mom looks at me. Reiner is obviously their leader, and he knows it too, but I don’t think Reiner sees the gazes and looks he receives from Annie and Bert.

Watchful gazes from Annie. Sad, longing stares from Bert.

I make quick work of opening my locker and grabbing my bag and keys. It’s when I’m finish fumbling with my bag that I hear footsteps behind me. I ignore them, it’s most likely someone I don’t know, and continue pushing random notebooks that are unnecessarily laying at the bottom of my locker. I’m pulling the zipper close when the footsteps stop right behind me.

I look over my shoulder. My heart skips a beat.

Levi’s standing there, looking down at me—I, unfortunately, have a bottom locker—with eyes that could light someone on fire. It feels like my heart is crawling up to my throat.

I’m about to question him when he holds out his hand. Between his fingers is a small slip of paper. I look it, then to him, questioningly.

“It’s my fucking number, shithead.”

“Why?” I breathe.

Levi closes his eyes in annoyance and inhales deeply. With his eyes still shut—which is better for me because his eyes make me feel like I’m drowning in a stormy sea—he says, “In case of emergencies.”

I’m shocked to say the less. I can feel the blood rush up to my cheeks. “Emergencies like what?” I ask, dumbly.

“Fuck, kid.” Levi snaps, “Like if you’re about to die or some shit. Just take the fucking paper or forget it.”

“Oh,” I reach out and take the paper. I only freak out a little internally when our fingers graze each other’s, “Okay.”

“This does not mean you can call me whenever.” Levi says sharply.

I nod frantically, my mouth too dry to speak.

With that, Levi turns on his heels and walks away.

When he’s gone I sit down roughly onto my butt and bang my head against the lockers behind me.

Fuck, I can’t deny it.

I love him.

 _I’m so fucked_ , I think.

 _We’re so fucked_ , Eren echoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So:  
> 1) today was my last day of high school. so the reason I've been shitty with the updates it because of all that bullshit. I graduate on Saturday (hella) so I'm gonna have a whole lot more time for writing.  
> 2) im writing the next chapter probably tomorrow  
> 3) my sister is making me write a fluffy chapter tomorrow between Eren, Armin, and Marco because apparently this fanfic is too Angsty.  
> 4) during the whole office scene I had 'Say Something' stuck in my head. goddamn.  
> 5) I love you  
> 6) greeneyedskank.tumblr.com  
> 7) fly my children. spread your wings of motherfucking freedom.  
> 8) Hi Alex  
> 9) Hi Terra  
> 10) Levi is the bae


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Reiner is a big goofball.

When I finally got home I was greeted to an empty house that smells like Old Spice aftershave and disinfectant. In the kitchen, laying on the table, was Dad’s briefcase and his one baseball hat that he takes everywhere with him. He got that hat the first—and last—time we ever went to a baseball game together. Honestly, neither one of us wanted to go, being as Dad hates baseball and I hate large crowds of people in one sitting, but Mom urged, nagged, and fucking whined at us to have a “Father, Son, fun day”.

It was terrible. Instead of bonding over America’s favorite pastime, we bonded over how much we hated being there. We left after the second ending, and decided that a video game arcade was a much better way to spend the day together. As we were walking out of the stadium—being goddamn pushed around _and_ stepped on by the guy in the mascot suit—Dad grabbed a ball cap as evidence for actually going to the goddamn place.

That was a good day between me and Dad. One of few, sadly.

I trail my finger along the rim of the baseball hat and sigh. It’s a good thing Mom is always home, because Dad never is. I was nine when we had our last “Father, Son, fun day”.

He was away a few days longer than what he told Mom, which is, honestly, to be expected. He’s always on missions, always away. If it wasn’t for the fact that whenever he returns home him and Mom hump like fucking animals, I would think he doesn’t love her anymore. A small smile graces my cheeks when I pull my finger from the hat and turn to the stairs beyond the opening of the kitchen. This is the first time having him return home in this house. It’s a good thing my room is on the other side of the house.

_So different._

I’m halfway up the stairs when Eren sighs the words. My hand tightens on the railing and my foot freezes in midair. Ever since the tango in Erwin’s office, I’ve barely felt Eren at all. He only came back for half a second when Levi made an appearance, and only to tell me what I already knew. The wall between us is still there, but I can barely feel his tickle.

I consider what he uttered. _Yes_ , I think. It is much different from what Eren knows as normal. For him, he only knows a life where his mother is dead and his father is away—likely dead as well.

I reach my room and flop down onto my bed. The springs in the mattress whine and creak. I can feel the slip of paper with Levi’s number burning a hole in my pocket. I want nothing more but to dig it out of my jeans and slide my thumb over the random numbers. I want to imprint the numbers into my skin just on the off chance I lose his number. Why I just don’t click the numbers into my phone? Because if I do I know I’ll have the heavy temptation of calling him, talking to him. And not just me either. I feel Eren wanting to talk to Levi all the time.

I feel heavy regret laced with Eren’s wanting. I can’t reach the reasoning behind the regret because of the mind block wall Eren has between us. I reach out to him mentally, yearning for him to explain. Explain his feelings and my feelings, because aren’t my feelings his feelings? Aren’t my desires his desires? Hanji’s earlier, excited guessing, her trying to explain why I’m not alone in my own head, oozes across my memory.

“Eren,” I whisper to an empty room, but a crowded mind, “am I you? Are you me?”

The wall that Eren has tightens up and solidifies further, shutting me off from even feeling a whisper of his emotions. I’m alone in my room, alone in my head.

“Jerk,” I mumble, annoyed because he’s been pulling this disappearing bullshit a lot lately, leaving me confused and—ugh—sexually frustrated around Levi.

It’s funny, when I think about it. All my life I’ve felt Eren in the back of my head, observing, commenting lightly on everyday things. He’d get me in trouble with some of the things he’d say from my mouth, make me sick from some of the things he would think and I’d overhear. All my life I always, kinda, dreaded the mind that roomed with mine, taking up my space and controlling my body when he felt the need. I’d run along with him in my dreams. Watching through _his_ eyes instead of the other way around. We clashed with each other. We hated each other…

“I don’t hate you,” I whisper, staring at the popcorn-like puffs on my ceiling. If I stare hard enough, I can make out a picture of a grinning dog in the puffs. I played this game a lot when I went to therapy. I’d never listen to the judging voice directed at me, but stare at the ceiling, making pictures with the random dots. My stare falters for a second and I lose the grinning dog.

I had hated Eren. Everything about him had made my skin crawl. His shitty attitude, the way his green eyes look better than my one green and gold one, the way Corporal held _him_ in my dreams. I had hated that Eren held me back from living life in the present. He made me obsessed with characters I thought I had made up. He took away any chance a me being normal…

I had hated Eren, but now I don’t.

My voice rings in my ears, but saying his words.

_I was protecting him. I’m so sorry, Eren._

Was Eren protecting me from his memories or _mine_? Was it just like Hanji guessingly analyzed, an intense version of PTSD and Dissociative Disorder? Is Eren a part of myself I wanted to ignore and unconsciously separated from? If so, when and how did I do it? I’ve lived with Eren as long as I can remember. I’ve had dreams of him and back then for almost as long.

If Eren is really a part of who I am, a part I projected away from, could I handle that? Eren used to be the subject of evil, but now he’s a picture of a friend, an alley, a ghost of a person who’s been “protecting” me for years. He said he was sorry. What does that mean?

I mentally scratch at the wall Eren has blocked around him.

Strangely, I feel lonely without him. I need someone to share my pain with.

I feel nothing.

For the first time in a long time, I feel alone. And it’s at that moment in my wallowing self-pity when my phone vibrates in my pocket.

I dig my phone from my pocket and see a message from Armin. He doesn’t text much, so seeing his name light up my phone is a pleasant treat. A small smile cracks at my face.

_Armin: Mikasa told me to visit you today. I had already decided to do that before she said anything. It’s like we were connected._

I huff a small laugh and go to reply before I get another text from him.

_Armin: Or something._

 

 

***

 

 

Mom’s currently in the kitchen making food for me and Armin to snack on for when he gets here. She arrived home an hour after I did and didn’t even question why I was home. She just stuck her head into my room, saw me—“Sweetie, you still look really pale.”—and closed the door behind her. I heard the front door open and close a half hour later and some mumbling in the kitchen, and guessed my father was home. That’s when I ventured down to inform them about my upcoming guest.

Dad looked dejected because he knew he wasn’t going to bone Mom anytime soon.

Mom saw my slightly disgusted face and giggled—fucking _giggled_ —and started making pigs in a blanket because this was my first friend to _ever_ come over.

I went upstairs soon after and doodled in my new sketchbook—since I fucking vomited all over the latest one—to get my mind off the look my Dad was making when he stared at Mom’s ass.

The page I was looking at and holding a pencil to was filled with noses. Just noses. Different noses, but mostly Armin’s nose. His button nose was etched into the paper in four different places, at four different angels. I mostly worked from memory. Recalling images of his button nose from dreams and—now—real life. I’m not sure if it’s normal for a teenage boy to find drawing the upturn of their best friend’s nose fun, but hey, I’ve never been normal. My nose was thrown in there too—nearing the left hand bottom corner. Levi’s straight, proud nose was sketched on there too, and so was Hanji’s—that was a disaster to doodle—and for some weird reason, a nose that resembled Bert’s.

I know Bert was part of Eren’s past life, but was he significant to him? Was Bert a friend that Eren couldn’t remember and I’ve never seen before? I still don’t have a lot of recollection of the dreams I’ve had all my life. Most are still fuzzy with the details, but Eren’s little snippets filled in a lot of blanks, like the faces and names. I know Bert was there, but was he important to humanity? Did he die like I just _know_ Marco did?

For some reason my chest starts to hurt.

I hear the doorbell ring and hurried footstep on the creaky hardwood floors. I close up my sketchbook and start to maneuver off my bed when I hear Mom’s voice.

“Eren, your _guests_ are here!”

I furrow my eyebrows. Guests? Did Mikasa decide to join Armin? I walk out my bedroom and down the stairs, and turn the corner to the kitchen. I stop in my tracks when I see all the bodies standing next to my mother.

“I’m going to need more pigs in a blanket,” Mom utters, staring up at the tall, brunet boy next to her.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Mrs. Jaeger,” Marco smiles nervously from the door. He holds up a plastic bag filled with brightly colored chip bags.

“I got the soda,” Jean announced, seemingly proud. I roll my eyes. Well _shit_ , someone give this guy a medal.

“Hey Eren,” I hear Armin say from outside, his body blocked by Marco, Jean, Bert, _and_ Reiner, “I may or may not have let slip I was coming over.”

“Yo, Eren! How ya feeling, buddy?” Reiner all but shouts as he pushes past Jean to walk over to me and ruffle my hair.

“What are you doing here?” I ask to everyone in the kitchen that isn’t Armin.

Mom gasps and I hear Dad huff a small laugh at the kitchen table. “Eren Jaeger! You greet your friends with respect and gratitude,” Mom spits at me with a chastising tone, though, I know she’s as amused as Dad.

“Yeah, Jaeger, where’s the hospitality?” Jean sneers smugly.

“Watch yourself, Horseface,” I crack at him. Reiner’s booming laugh in my ear almost deafens me when everyone can see the shocked face my mother pulls.

“Son, you need better insults,” Dad chuckles, turning back to the book in his hand I didn’t see before.

“I know right?” Marco laughs, “Horseface is like a second name for Jean here. It doesn’t have the same punch in it.”

Mom watches on with wide eyes as Marco, Dad, and Reiner all laugh loudly as Jean stutters in fumed annoyance and I grumble at Marco and Dad’s comments. Bert just stands next to Reiner and watches the whole thing with a pinched expression and what seems like a forced smile. I can tell he’s uncomfortable and probably didn’t want to come.

Armin moves around the many bodies in the smallish kitchen to get to my mother. “Hello, I’m Armin Arlert.”

“Hello!” Mom throws her arms around Armin and squeezes him. I hear a startled yelp escape Armin’s mouth and I find that amusing. A sound like that is funny when it comes from a guy looking like him. Mom pulls back, “Oh, it’s so great to finally meet Eren’s first friend!” Mom shouts, halting everyone.

 _Fuck_.

“I knew it! Ha, Jaeger! You’re a big fat loser!” Jean laughs.

Reiner’s arm slides around my shoulder and he pulls me into his chest. “Oh, poor, poor, Jaeger boy. I can be your bestest friend if you’re so lonely.” Reiner coos. Bert finally laughs a bit at that.

I scoff and push away from the power body blond and straighten myself while turning to Mom. “Mom, I swear I thought only one was coming.”

“The more the merrier,” Reiner says with a big smile, which causes Mom to smile widely as well.

“I only came because Marco was coming.” Jean says, like I give a damn why he came or not.

With a sigh, I introduce everyone to Mom—and Dad if he’s listening—and move to guide them upstairs to my room when Mom stops me.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go in the basement? More space for everyone.”

I stop. “We have a basement?”

“Wow,” Armin laughs into his hand.

“Idiot,” Jean whispers to Marco.

“Oh, Sweetie,” Mom sighs. “Where do you think we put the other furniture?” She waves her hand toward the living room.

I blush, “I thought you sold it.”

“Son, I didn’t raise you to be so ignorant,” Dad teases, not looking up from his book.

It takes ten minutes for Mom to show me where the door to the basement is—which is practically hidden by the closet door that _always_ seems to be open—and for her to get the hell out. I can tell that she’s taken a great liking to Reiner’s open personality and Armin’s kindness. She, Reiner, and Jean all make fun of me when they see me openly gawking at the surroundings of the basement. Which—holy shit—is a man cave.

“You’re father decorated it,” Mom said, chuckling along with Reiner. Speaking of which, he’s openly undressing her with his eyes and he’s about to die.

The basement consists of a new flat screen TV, two of our old armchairs that was at our old apartment, and a long leather black couch I’ve never seen before. A door opposite the stairs is standing open and I can see a small bathroom with just a toilet and sink.

“Holy shit, Mom, why didn’t you ever tell me we had a basement?” I turn to her. _Fuck._ “Reiner, get your nasty arm off my mother.”

Mom shakes her head and steps out from under Reiner’s arm. “You’re always in your room, and I just wanted to see how long it would take you to venture out. Didn’t think it would take this long.”

“I bet Eren’s a handful,” Marco smile politely, speaking to Mom. Bert, Jean, and Armin are seated around the TV, Bert and Jean in the two armchairs. Jean just made himself at fucking home because he’s kicked back and is trying to understand the many controllers to the TV.

Mom smiles and starts to slowly inch to the stairs. “Oh no. He was a troubled child, you know, with bad dreams and violent urges, but he’s a sweetie now.” Out of the corner of my eye I see Jean stop fumbling with the remotes and throw a glance across the room. “I’m still gonna make you boys some snacks, so sit tight,” and with that, Mom flies back up the stairs and away from Reiner’s intense stare. Which turns to me.

“Dude—.”

I glare at him. “Don’t even fucking say it.”

Reiner holds up his hands in surrender. “Well, can I just say I understand why you’re so hot?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I ignore Marco and Armin’s laugh and utter, “Oh my God.”

“What the fuck, Reiner? Are you gay or what?” Jean nearly shouts. Reiner and Marco move and sit on either side of Armin on the leather couch. I really have no desire whatsoever to wedge in-between any of them so I opt to sit on the floor in the space between Bert’s armchair and the side of the couch Reiner is sitting on.

Reiner shrugs and reaches forward to grab the plastic bag holding the chips Marco dropped onto the middle of the floor. “I don’t like labels, dude. I mean, I can appreciate the beauty of a man then turn around and fuck Eren’s mom.”

I inhale deeply, reconsidering this so called friendship between Reiner and me. “I will murder you in your sleep,” I hiss.

Stuffing a handful of chips in his face, Reiner speaks up. “Speaking of which, I don’t plan on going home tonight.” His big hand reaches out and clasps my shoulder, chip flakes and crumbs sprinkling my shirt, “So I greatly appreciate your extended invite.”

It’s when I’m looking at Reiner like’s he’s a _complete_ idiot, Bert speaks up. “Uh, me too!”

I turn my head to him, “What-?”

“Count me in on this, too.” Jean huffs.

Forgetting Bert, I turn to look at Jean with a surprised expression. Not just me either, I can see. Marco and Armin look equally as puzzled.

“Jean?” Marco asks.

Jean finally gets the television working and avoids all our stares. “What? I thought, maybe, I could join Reiner’s way of living,” he says, obviously hiding the real reason to staying.

Reiner barks a curt laugh, “All right! Kirschtein, hanging on the flip side!”

Marco’s face turns red.  

“Excuse you,” I announce, “what makes you think I’ll agree to this?”

“Do you really think your mom would kick us out?” Jean asks, still looking at the TV.

“Yeah. She can’t resist all this.” Reiner’s hands wave up and down his seated body.

I look at them speechless for a second before finding my voice. “My parents are probably going to fuck like animals tonight.”

All eyes are on me now. _Oh god. Oh shit. I’m so embarrassed. Why did I say that?_

Reiner lifts an eyebrow a few moments later. “Really?”

“Reiner,” Bert says with a warning tone.

I fold my legs and hugs around my knees, hiding my burning face. I hear Reiner, Jean, and Marco laugh.

It calms down after a while. Jean had turned it to some movie channel, and I’m not sure what movie’s playing, but it’s a torture, scary movie and there’s a lot of blood. When I peak over at the others, I see Armin watching the movie through the holes in his finger fort, Jean looking at it with open disapproval, Reiner watching with a small, sadistic smile on his face, Marco is looking at his phone, but I can see the shine of sweat on his brow, indicating that he’s looking at his phone to hide from the movie, and Bert just looks bored.

I watch as some man’s head gets crushed between two large blocks of ice, blood and brains flying everywhere, and I can’t help but compare the fake sight to what I’ve seen. Which is pieces of the wall whizzing through the air after being kicked down. Large pieces of solid wall crashing to the ground and, unfortunately, crushing frantic people underneath. I have seen blood that erupts from a squished person, their insides liquefied under a heavy mass, and forced upwards out into the open. The man’s head in the movie, after being crushed, doesn’t erupt as hard as it would in real life. The remaining body parts don’t twitch as much as it should in real life.

“Looks so fake,” I hear myself whisper.

“Why do you say that?” Bert’s voice whispers right in my ear.

A small squeak flies from my lips and I turn up to look at Bert. His face is hovering near mine and he’s watching he’s with wide eyes. For some reason, he looks so sad.

“Uh,” my mouth feels dry suddenly, “it just looks really fake.”

Bert nods slowly, his eyes still scanning the whole picture of my face. “Yeah. This movie is pretty terrible,” and then I see him grin softly, the depressed tint in his eyes still present, but mostly masked.

I decide to return his smile. I like Bert. I know Eren used to know him. Maybe he’s just really shy and only knows what’s familiar, and familiar is Reiner. “Yeah, pretty bad.”

It’s when Mom calls my name that I remove myself from Bert’s gaze. As I’m heading up the stairs, I see Armin heft himself off the couch. Marco whimpers softly, because by this point, Marco couldn’t use his phone for an excuse to hide—words by Jean—and relied on Armin’s bony shoulder as protection. Smiling behind my shoulder at Armin, we make our way upstairs. It’s when I close the door after him that he opens his mouth to speak.

“Eren, I am so sorry.”

I wrinkle my brows in confusion. His face wiped from pleasant to upset. It’s unsettling. “What’s the matter?”

“Mikasa told me you had a really bad morning, which I could tell during first period before you went to Smith’s office. She told me I should come see you today, which I was already planning on asking you to hang out today because Gramps is doing better, and I was telling Marco that on our way to lunch and Reiner…” he trailed off.

“Reiner invited himself.” I filled in the blanks.

Armin nodded, his long hair brushing onto the front of his shoulders and spilling past his collarbone. “And when Reiner decides on something, he follows through, and, you know, Bert is stuck on Reiner’s ass, and Marco was just like ‘Hey, let’s all go see Eren!’ and Jean grumbled but agreed, but not before I saw him share a glance with Bert. And that’s weird, because they’ve never been the closest of friends and suddenly I see them talking all the time and just I’m so sorry for bringing all these people to you!”

I’m amused. There’s really no other way to put it. Armin’s upset expression becomes easier to handle with every second he rambles, because his cheeks start to redden and his eyes widen. I shouldn’t find it amusing, but I do. He looks truly upset, and over nothing.

I laugh lightly, touched by his worrying. “Armin, it’s okay. It might have been a surprise and Reiner has it coming if he says one more thing about my mom, but I’m having fun. I’ve never really…” I’m suddenly embarrassed, but this is Armin so I push the feeling away, “I’ve never really had friends like you guys before.”

“Me too.” Armin says. We both start walking to the kitchen where I can smell baked mini hotdogs, bread, and some cheddar cheese. “We weren’t all like this. I mean, me and Marco were friends, but I never talked to Reiner and Bert. Not before you moved here. But since you got here, we just grouped formed and I just… it feels right. Normal.”

I nod. Normal. It feels normal now, and it felt normal then. “Yeah, I get that.”

“Oh, Armin! You came to help Eren with the snacks?” Mom’s voice spills from the kitchen.

“Yes, Mrs. Jaeger! And also to apologize for allowing so many to tag along.” Armin looks bashfully at the floor.

Mom waves her hand aimlessly through the air. On the table are two big plates filled with pigs in a blanket and a big bowl of melted cheese. I can see Dad eyeballing them. “Oh no, I’m happy that Eren made these many friends. And please, drop the ‘Mrs. Jaeger’, call me Carla.” Mom smiles brightly and drops into the chair next to Dad.

Armin and I grab the plates, cheese, and some paper plates before heading back down the stairs. When we get back down there, I see that Jean turned the channel to a different movie and Marco is apologizing to Reiner and Bert.

“You big, freckled baby!” Reiner mocks, not looking so upset at the movie switch.

“I’m sorry, but when someone starts messing with eyes, I’m out.” Marco shudders.

“Weak,” I hear Bert throw out, a bit hesitant. Reiner turns to look at Bert and laughs, requesting a fist bump at the apparent burn.

Armin and I just place the food in the middle of the floor with the rest of the chips and soda. “Feast up boys, dinner time.” I singsong.

Everyone decides to eat on the floor, so we form a somewhat circle surrounding the food. Reiner and Bert pile their plates with mini hotdogs and gobs and gobs of cheese. I munch on some chips, not really a big fan of Mom’s pigs in a blanket. Though never ever in a million years would I tell her that.

“So Eren,” Reiner speaks around a mouth full of cheese, “are _you_ gay?”

It’s funny to say that I’m not the only one that coughs at that. It seems like me, Armin, and Marco all choked on the food we were eating.

When I can goddamn breathe again, I open my mouth to speak, “Why are you asking?”

Reiner shrugs, “No reason. Well, actually, yeah there’s a reason. I never got to ask you why you called Mr. Ackerman some BDSM name.”

My eyes widen. _Levi_.

Jean laughs loudly, “I thought he was going to murder you.”

I’m suddenly not so hungry anymore. I was doing so well about not thinking about him.

“What did you call him again?” Bert asks.

“That’s not important,” I mumble before I shove about five chips into my mouth.

“I heard it was Daddy!” Reiner laughs. Marco chokes on his soda and starts coughing, but I can hear his laughter.

I can feel my face flush. I want Eren to come out so he can get me out of this awkward situation. He would know what to say. But alas… the bastard is gone.

“What? No! Why in the world would I call him Daddy?” I stumble over my words. I turn to Jean. “Did you tell everyone I called Mr. Ackerman Daddy?”

Jean’s face is currently red because of the large amount of ugly laughing he’s doing. He shakes his head, “No! But I should have! Holy shit, Reiner, where did you hear that?” Jean folds over, his hands on his stomach, as he cackles louder. Even Armin starts giggling.

I look at him with wide eyes. “Traitor,” I whisper at him. He just shrugs good-naturally.

“I’ll never tell you who told me!” Reiner puffs up his chest and slams his right fist onto his chest, resting over his heart, “Scouts honor!”

I don’t even think to laugh. My skin crawls. Armin and Marco both laugh loudly at Reiner’s joke, but I barely hear them. Blood rushes through my ears as I watch Reiner’s eyes light up with mirth, removing his fist away from his chest to eat some more. A little to Reiner’s left I see Bert watching Reiner with… with the sad eyes again. Such sad, sad eyes that I can see past the forced smile.

 _Eren?_ I think, mentally approaching the wall. _Bert? Reiner?_

“It was Corporal!” Jean’s voice brings me back from the dark corners of my head. I turn to look at Jean. When my eyes land on him, I can tell something is off. “Eren called Mr. Ackerman Corporal.” Jean’s eyes were sweeping over everyone’s but mine.

Reiner laughs loudly. “Oh man! Eren! I didn’t know you were into military foreplay.” Reiner’s smile turns evil when he leans forward, edging closer to me, “I can be your Commander if you want.” He does a thing with his eyebrows.

Apparently my face is comical enough for everyone—including Bert—to break off into loud bursts of laughter.

For the next couple hours, I ignore everyone except Armin and Marco. Around five, Reiner announces that—hey! I forgot I have my Xbox in my car!—and brought in his game advice along with a laptop, a pillow, and a toothbrush down into the basement.

“Do you live in your car?” Armin asks, half amused, yet half worried for his new friend.

Reiner shakes his head while he hooks up the game advice. “No. I always go to Bert’s and he doesn’t have an Xbox, so I just keep it in my car.”

“And the pillow?” Jean asks, sniffing the surface of it then grimacing.

“Never know when you wanna take a nap on the high road.”

I’ve come to the conclusion that Reiner may be one of those friends you keep at a distance at most times.

At one point, when I finally looked away from the shooting game Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Bert were playing, I saw that Armin was playing with his hair. He held the thick rope of hair in his hands over his shoulders. I watched as his long, pale fingers danced with the strands as he started to braid them. He looked over and caught me watching.

“What?” Armin asked.

I blush. “How did you learn to braid?”

Armin’s smile is kind and leaves me feeling fuzzy. “I looked it up when my hair reached past my shoulders.”

Next looking away from the TV and his fingers dancing, Marco speaks up, “Armin used to have coconut hair!”

“He did! Oh god, it was terrible!” Jean laughs.

Armin’s skin turns red and his grip on his hair loosens. Many stray hairs lay perfect and straight on Armin’s collar bone and shoulder. “Shut up, Seabiscuit!”

There’s a moment of silence. Reiner presses pause.

“Marry me, Armin Arlert.” Reiner says, then laughs so loud, it’s almost like a sonic boom went off in my basement. Following Reiner, everyone but Jean—and Armin because he was hiding his face in embarrassment—started laughing hysterically. Even Bert was clutching his stomach.

By the time 9:30 came around, Marco and Armin announced they should head home. I had already texted Mom, asking if the three bastards could sleep over, and she said yes. Her one exception was we weren’t allowed to go upstairs to my room.

“More like her room, am I right?” Reiner joked, as he read the text over my shoulder. I punched him for that.

When Armin and Marco were gone, Mom threw down a bunch of blankets and pillows for us and shouted that we were still responsible for waking ourselves up and getting to school on time. Reiner and Jean play _Grand Thief Auto_ until around eleven, cursing and laughing loudly. I opted to sleep on the floor—because I am a goddamn great host—, Reiner and Jean in the two armchairs, and Bert on the couch because he’s the tallest.

Closing my eyes against the bright TV, I let my body relax.

 _Eren_ , I think, _you had such great friends…_

 

 

***

 

 

With my back pressed up against the tree, my arms steaming profusely, I stare up at Reiner and Bertholdt, who are standing on a branch a few yards away from me, and my world tilts upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my friends! I hope you enjoyed chapter ten! My sister wanted a cute chapter between Eren and Armin but I thought a big get together with the guys would be better. I was halfway through writing this when I remembered Connie. He's gonna be hella mad at school the next day. 
> 
> I actually have a friend like Reiner. He'll come over and just be like: "I don't intend on going home, soooo." I fucking spoil my friends, goddamn it. 
> 
> I love you~ 
> 
> greeneyedskank.tumblr.com
> 
> Love you Alex, love you Terra.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. first off: im a piece of shit. I'm sorry. I'll explain why I haven't updated until now in the end notes.
> 
> second off: WOOOOOO MORE THAN 300 KUDOS!!!! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME AND I LOVE YOU~~ never thought people would like this overly emotionally, not fluffy at all, story.
> 
> third off: READ THE MANGA BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER JFC
> 
> thank you sooooo so much! Please enjoy chapter 11!!

The giant cluster of trees prevented the biting air outside the forest from blowing inside, so as I stood upright, rigid, I felt nothing but hot air on my face. Hot air that leaked out the stubs of my arms because I didn’t have hands. Pain is a funny thing when it comes to me. I can feel it, I just choose not to. There’s a thick undertone of excruciating pain circulating around my body, filling every crevice and lighting every nerve, there’s also a heavy emptiness weighing down the heart in my chest. I’m feeling all this pain, but it’s easy to ignore.

It’s easy to push aside when I listen to my comrades talk about destroying the wall. The pain inside my bones can easily be turned off when said comrades move on to a different subject—i.e. Krista—like I didn’t just hear them admit to wiping out twenty percent of the human population.

“Is this a joke?” I shout suddenly, interrupting Reiner’s speech about becoming a captain and winning Krista over. This is ridiculous. This isn’t right. My stomach flips over itself, causing my body to tighten uncomfortably. I swallow down the nausea and continue to state at my friends, Bertholdt and Reiner.

Reiner stops. When he looks at me, I see his face twisted with emotions. Looking half crazed, Reiner shouts back, “What… are you mad about, Eren?” My skin crawls when my name rolls off his tongue. It doesn’t sound right anymore. “Did I… say something wrong?”

White rage fills my vision. “IF YOU WANT ME TO KILL YOU, JUST COME OUT AND SAY IT!” I roar madly, feeling as if my sanity is dripping away from me.

Next to me, a girl, also steaming, calmly speaks. “Wait, Eren. Whatever he’s saying… it’s not normal.” Her voice is rich and husky. Turning my gaze from Reiner, I turn to look at the girl next to me. I knew her, just as I knew Reiner and Bertholdt.

Which is—apparently—not at all.

Ymir doesn’t look at me as she continues, “Isn’t that right, Bertholdt?” He jumps a little when his name is thrown out into the open. “If there’s something you know, then quit being silent and actually do something.” Ymir voice stays calm and neutral as she talks at the sweating, curled up boy.

From about ten feet away, I see Reiner’s face scrunch up in confusion. Behind him, Bertholdt continues to gaze moodily at the tree branch under him.

“Huh?” Reiner spins around to face his best friend after Ymir’s voice disappears in the wide open space between us. It’s quiet for a second. The only sounds that grace our eardrums are the shuffling of titans below us and the grinding of growing bones from myself and Ymir.

At first, Bertholdt doesn’t say anything. His arms wrap more tightly around his legs and beads of sweat roll down his temple. I can’t see Reiner’s face, but his body is wound in confusion and hurt. It’s been like that the second I woke up from unconsciousness, from the second I started looking at him like he’s a monster.

Which he is.

Bertholdt finally opens his mouth. “Reiner… you’re… you’re not a soldier.” My heart thumps in my chest rapidly, until it stops at Bertholdt’s next words. “We’re… warriors…”

Hot air caresses my face. There’s a burning sensation around my eyes that I’ve just now noticed, but none of that matters. My mouth drops open when I see Reiner’s body jump. Bertholdt is still looking at the bark of the tree, though his expression is pinched in anger. For a few fleeting seconds, I don’t know how to breathe.

There’s a part of me—a part I can’t _help_ but have—that hopes for Reiner to laugh it off and question his friend. _What are you talking about, Bert?_ He would say, _We’ve always been soldiers. We fight with our friends for humanity. We fight with Eren._ But as the seconds tick by, my heart hardens.

Do I even have a heart anymore?

“Yeah…” Reiner finally says, softly, “That’s right.”

 

 

***

 

 

A violent shudders rocks me awake. A tremor rolls down my body aggressively, lighting every nerve on fire. There’s an intense pressure on my chest and my mouth is open, gasping for breaths that don’t seem to be coming. My mouth is dry, but my face isn’t as I feel tears squeeze through my half lidded eyes, rolling down my cheeks into my ears. There’s a white hot feeling coursing through my veins, causing my teeth to clench.

My fists balls up involuntarily, my toes curl with sudden rage, and I can finally breathe, though it takes me a couple tries to figure out how to around the ball of fire inside me. My eyes fully open, opening to darkness and the stillness of night. Tears still overflow, though as each one falls, it’s less in remorse and betrayal and more in bitterness, anger, and revenge.

There’s a shuffling in my head, and a small part of me knows that it’s Eren. But for the first time in my life, as I mentally lock him away, he doesn’t push back. I give him no room to. He has no power. I can’t feel his secondhand emotions over my blinding ones. I’m drunk on the hissing feeling that’s swimming around me, engulfing me and shielding me from reality. For the first time in my life, I understand Eren’s bloodlust.

One word vibrates through me, shaking me to the core: _Kill_.

And with that one word being identified, my body jerks awake out of its fury-ridden, comatose state. With the muscles in my abdominal, I sit up from my sleeping position, rustling the blankets off my shoulders to pool around my waist. The cold air of the basement stings the tear trails on my face, as I stare wide-eyed at the very person who broke my heart.

Moonlight trickles in through the one high window on the other side of the room, highlighting the outline of Reiner’s face. His body is slumped heavily on the armchair, one of his legs draped over an arm and both his arms resting above his head. His head is turned in my direction, his mouth open, snoring lighting—which I shockingly perceive through a thin sheet of red vision—and sleeping peacefully away, like the blood of thousands of people on his hands doesn’t bother him.

I understand the feelings that give me the will to quietly get up to stand on my feet. This feeling is familiar because I’ve lived with it for years, feeling it whenever I shut my eyes, feeling it whenever, in the real world, Eren wanted me to fight back. This feeling I taste on the back of my tongue when Eren slips into my place, controlling my body and actions, his emotions and thoughts drowning out mine. This bloodlust sensation I feel is as familiar as the feeling of love and affection, because I know so much of both. Love and affection coming from _my_ memory. Bloodlust coming from _Eren’s_.

Gazing down at Reiner’s sleeping form, I realize I’ve never felt so connected to Eren until this moment.

This moment where I—me, not Eren—want to inflict pain. Want someone to repent for their sins. I’ve never thought I was one to bare judgment, but here I am.

My breathing hitches in my throat, ripping out a sudden sob. Memories of another life flash across the center point of my mind. Reiner standing tall and stoic during the first day of training. Reiner encouraging Eren when he couldn’t get the hang of the 3D gear. Reiner standing protectively around Eren when he emerged from the titan the first time. All beautiful memories, tainted with lies.

 With shaky hands, I swiftly reach my hands forward, going for Reiner’s neck. That’s all I see. That’s all that matters.

I bet Reiner would look good, having my hands squeezing the life out of him. I bet the souls of all the people he’s indirectly killed would cheer. The world would rotate easily, having one less mass murderer alive.

I ignore the panic strikes that wash through my body because of Eren. His mental shouts are muffled, I don’t allow myself to hear them. As if my body is on autopilot, the fingertips of my thumbs brush Reiner’s Adam’s apple.

Reiner’s voice—heard with Eren’s ears, but echoed in mine—whispers in my head. _Five years ago, we… destroyed the wall and begun our attack on humanity. I’m the armored titan, and he’s the colossus titan._

“Die. Reiner.” I whisper, my voice sounding unfamiliarly low. My fingers tighten around his throat.

“Eren!” a sudden shout shatters the air. My hands are ripped from Reiner’s smooth throat as I feel a force knock me over. A heavy mass pins me down, caging my body between hands and knees. The white rage spikes up inside me. I thrash under the weight, bucking my hips and frantically moving my shoulders and head, trying to break free. All I know is red. All I understand is justice. All I see is Reiner’s traitor face.

“Eren! Goddamn it, you suicidal bastard! Fucking calm down!” The heavy, annoying mass above me shouts.

“Please, Eren…” I hear a softer whisper from next to me. “Please. He doesn’t know. Doesn’t remember…” A soft sob breaks off his words.

Like a switch, the red in my vision, the white feeling in my veins disappears. The thoughts of ridding people from this earth are a chilling afterthought as my body drops from its high. Tiny ice pinpoints stab my stomach and the skin of my face and neck are damp with cold sweat. My vision is blurry as I try to concentrate on the face that hovers above mine. Gusts of hot breath blows over my face, causing me to feel uncomfortable and dirty.

With a violent jolt I realize. _I tried to kill Reiner._

I open my mouth, hoping to say something. Anything. All that comes out is a hitched breath, and with that broken breath, the flood that has been waiting impatiently behind my eyes breaks. The hot tears on my cold face feels like trails of fire, burning holes into my skin. A thick gaze of guilt blocks my throat and I can’t swallow down my cries. I’ve never felt so dead, but painfully alive in my life.

The hands pinning my wrists to the floor loosen. Through the heavy screen of tears, I see the blurry face in front of me inch closer. I make out Jean’s signature long nose.

“Jean,” I hear Bert whisper close to me, “Reiner is still sleeping.”

Without taking his eyes from mine, Jean answers, “Holy shit. That guy could sleep through someone busting in through the wall.”

I inhale sharply.

“That wasn’t funny, Jean.” Bert sighs.

Jean laughs lightly, “I thought it was.”

My mouth opens and closes like a fish. “Are… are you… what—I mean, Jean…?”

One of Jean’s eyebrows lift. “Are you asking if I remember?”

Deciding my mouth can’t work, I nod, wide-eyed.

“Isn’t that obvious, you dick?”

I furrow my eyebrows, the guilt feeling blocking my throat becoming some other emotion. Relief. Pity. Happiness. I turn my head to look at Bert and I feel Jean’s hand tighten around me again.

“Eren…” Bert says softly, hesitantly.

“You tried to kill Reiner.” Jean says, no question at all behind his voice.

Looking at Bert’s soft features in the dim lighting, I can see he’s returning my gaze sadly, but with caution. His body is folded over, sitting next to me, but stiff and ready for action if needed.

“You also woke us up with your barbaric screaming.” Jean complains quietly.

Licking my lips, I try speaking again. “W-what did I say?”

Jean looks up slightly, recalling, “Something along the lines of ‘Come out and say it and I’ll kill you’ or something like that.”

“’If you want me to kill you, just come out and say it’,” Bert whispers softly, his eyes reflecting such sadness, it makes my chest feel pinched.

A shaky breath leaves me lips. “I-I-I…”

“You really had us fooled.” Jean utters, “Never thought I’d see you again, but lo and behold, you fucking stroll into school like you’ve been there all your life.” Jean shakes his head and laughs lightly, a bit bitterly. “You don’t need to explain though. Smith told us everything. Told us about your weird, fucking issue. So you have ole Suicidal Bastard in your head, right? Tell the dick I still don’t forgive him for putting cheese under my mattress.”

“S-Smith told you?” I ask, incredulous.

The smile that stretches across Jean’s cheeks kinda makes me want to punch him. I can understand why Eren wanted Jean to sleep on molding cheese now. “Yup. Told everyone that remembers. Me, Bert, Annie, Connie, Mikasa, Sasha, Ymir, Krista, Hanji, and Levi. We all remember. Just call us the Titan Club.”

“Again,” Bert breathes, “not funny.”

Jean finally looks away from me to turn to Bert. “Fuck you, that is funny.”

“You’re sense of humor has not changed much over the last couple thousand years,” Bert says, finally showing some signs of relaxing.

Jean tsks, ignoring Bert’s insult to turn back to me. “So, are you going to attack Bert, too?”

My body tightens in shock. “What?”

Jean shrugs, his body starting to feel really heavy now. “Well, you obviously had a dream about when we found out about Bert and Reiner. Then you fucking wake up and try to strangle the guy. So what I’m asking is: Is Bert next?”

Bert makes a tiny sound in the back of his throat.

I open my mouth, my chest hammering away.

“Or was that our Eren? Smith told us about how he can, like, take control. That must fucking suck.” Jean comments offhandedly.

With the mention of Eren, my head suddenly starts aching. There’s a sharp pain lighting up my temples, and a dull ache behind my eyes. But I don’t feel Eren. The wall that he had up is back, and I’m alone with myself.

I remember the secondhand emotions of panic I felt while wrapping my hands around Reiner’s neck. I know they were Eren’s, so I know he was out. He was awake. But the feelings coursing through me that were coming from him weren’t related to bloodlust and anger.

No. All that malicious anger came from me. Leftover feelings from my dream. Eren’s memory.

I tried to kill my friend.

The tears I didn’t notice stop, start up again and a single droplet rolls gracefully over the lip of my eye and down my cheek. “No,” I answer breathlessly. “No. That was me.”

I try to not hear Bert’s sharp inhale. I try to ignore Jean’s livid glare.

“B-but, I-I didn’t mean to!” I confess loudly. “That’s never happened to me before! That wasn’t me, but wasn’t Eren, either!”

“Then who was it?” Jean’s voice is hard.

I close my eyes, feeling sick with myself. “The best way I can explain this is, is I guess it was me with Eren’s leftover memory. My dreams are his memories.”

“So it was Eren.” Jean growls.

I shake my head. “No. No. It was like sleepwalking,” I explain, and the more I do, the more it makes sense to me as well. “My dreams, Eren’s memories, are different from when Eren shows me things.” I say as I recall when he showed me his memories aside from me being pulled in, “When he voluntarily shows me, I watch as an outsider. But when I have dreams, it’s like I’m sucked in and _I’m_ Eren.”

Jean shakes his head above me. “This is fucking confusing.”

“No,” Bert whispers. I look at him. His head isn’t turned toward me, but looking over at Reiner’s still sleeping body. His eyes are sad and his lips are pulled downward. “No. I understand. When we were kids, Reiner used to have dreams, like you, Eren, but he always thought they were just dreams. He never recognized them as memories. Eventually, they went away, and so did his memory.”

“I didn’t know this,” Jean says with a goddamn pout. I want to roll my eyes. _Child._

Bert shrugs. “I’ve always remembered, like you, Jean. I know what we did. I remember the blood that coated my hands. If by some miracle Reiner didn’t? I was going to grasp ahold of that. I never tried to get him to remember. I let him believe they were dreams. I prefer him not remembering.”

“Bertholdt…” I suddenly say.

He looks away from Reiner’s body, looking at me.

“Bertholdt… I-I…” I inhale deeply and start over. “I know you. I see you in Eren’s memories. You were his friend, his comrade.”

“Eren…” Jean says in a warning tone.

I ignore him and continue. “Tonight, I saw you betray him. Betray me, if Hanji’s guessing is true and I’m really Eren. I recall the pain I felt when we were in the forest of giant trees.”

Bert looks down, avoiding my eyes. I see his swallow roughly.

“But I want you to know, I would never hurt you. Or Reiner. I promise. I’m so sorry.” My voice breaks off toward the end and my eyes feel heavy again. “And if I’m not your Eren, then I know he forgives you.”

Bert shakes his head wildly. “No,” he whispers dejectedly, “No. He wouldn’t.”

“Eren might be thickheaded…”

“Got that right.” Jean comments.

Annoyed, I turn to Jean. “Shut up, horse. And seriously? Can you get off me already?”

I watch as Jean’s eyes widen, like he completely forgot that he was on me in the first place. Jean’s hands let go of my wrists and he swings himself off me. Sitting up, I mumble a few silent curses at him for holding my wrists so tightly.

I turn back to Bert. “As I was saying, Eren might be thickheaded. Might be the most stubborn son of a bitch in the world, and I kinda hope I’m not him because I don’t want to be that stubborn, but I know what he feels. What he felt. When I was blindly attacking Reiner, he tried to hold me back. I felt his panic.”

Bert’s eyes widen.

“This whole time I’ve been with you here, in this world, he’s been watching. He sees you through my eyes. I regard you as a kind person. As my friend.” I take a deep breath and send Eren’s wall a quick plea, “And so does he.”

I close my mouth, done with everything I have to say, and watch Bert for his reactions. For a couple seconds, his face remains blink, minus his wide eyes. Then, I see his eyes fill and a tear drips down.

“E-Eren.” Bert whispers through shaking lips.

“Wow,” Jean whispers, probably accidently out loud.

“Eren… I’m sorry.” Bert finally says.

The wall around Eren crumbles for a second. And that’s all it takes.

Eren’s emotions flow through me, soaking every inch of me in golden sensations.

I smile when I hear his voice.

“He said he forgives you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. As I said earlier, I'm a piece of shit, but I'll give you my excuses. *coughs into hand*  
> 1) I went to my first con. (IT WAS SO MUCH FUN! I cosplayed Juvia from Fairy Tail and a whole group of strangers cosplaying everyone in FT kidnapped me because they didn't have a Juvia so yeah... SO MUCH FUN)  
> 2) I played DRAMAtical murder for the first time, and kinda got obsessed with it. aoba and koujaku FIVE EVER.  
> 3) I'm a piece of shit.  
> 4) I started writing this AND I WAS IN THE ZONE when i got a call from my friend saying he and my other friend were standing on my front porch, wanting to hang out. totally uninvited. UGH. So i couldn't write for the rest of the day because the shitheads wouldn't leave until 11:30 and by then my zone was nonexistent.
> 
> So yes! Hoped you enjoyed this!~ 
> 
> Kudos to Alex and Kudos to Terra. Terra, I love you! Get happy soon, okay?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So before you read this chapter, I just want to say, the next couple chapters are just chapters that are written to get this story where it needs to go. 
> 
> But anywho! Please enjoy!~

Three hours of dreamless sleep. Three hours of sleep that actually helped my body relax was all I got before I was forced from my slumber by a mountain with blond hair. First, it was a foot on my stomach, lightly pressing weight down. Easily ignorable. I groan, the vibration from it rocketing around my head. The foot on my stomach jiggles me from side to side.

An annoying voice, sounding fucking chipper, sings from above me. “Jaeger,” my name is stretched out in a singsong voice, “Mommy told us that it was time to wake up!”

Since I’m laying on my back, it takes little to no effect to open my eyes and glare evilly at a shirtless Reiner. “Call my mother ‘Mommy’ one more time, and I swear to god, Reiner, I will kill you.” Morning thickness coats the inside of my throat, so I happily notice I sound positively intimidating.

“Yeah, dude,” I hear Jean’s voice, “never say ‘Mommy’ again.”

Reiner holds up his hands, removing his foot from my abdominal. “Hey, now. I’m not the one taking the sweet, innocent word, and making it sexual.”

Bert sighs from wherever he’s at, “The second you start puberty is the second ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’ become sexual. I quote this from you, Reiner.”

Reiner throws back his head, his face in amused confusion. “When in the world did I say that?”

“Last year,” Jean says. “It was when Mr. Ackerman teased you in the hallway about how you had to ask permission for something. Shit if I can remember what for.”

My heart flutters at the mention of the man’s surname. With Reiner’s foot off me, I slowly sit up, feeling each joint and muscle scream at me. _Goddamn house hosts and their hospitality._

Reiner chuckles through a slight blush, “Oh fuck. That was embarrassing. I never spoke two words to the guy and he goes and calls me out like that. What a dick.”

“Yeah. Who would ever like a guy like that?” Jean speaks thickly. Feeling tiny pinpoints on the side of my face, I turn my eyes from Reiner to see Jean smirking softly. At me.

Oh God. Please no.

“I swear to you!” Reiner replies loudly, “I swear on my life him and Smith are fucking!”

My whole body tightens and I can feel a bottomless pit in my stomach. A flash of gray eyes paint themselves in my brain.

Jean’s smirk turns into a downright, goddamn sneer. “You know what, Reiner? You could be right. I have noticed how Mr. Ackerman looks at Smith. Like an animal, I tell you.”

Reiner turns to Bert, but points to Jean. “See! I’m not the only one!”

Bert looks at me nervously. “Reiner…”

“And you know what? I think Mr. Ackerman is the one who takes it. Oh yeah. Smith’s too big to be a bottom bitch, so Mr. Ackerman totally takes it up his-,”

“Shut the fuck up, Jean!” the words are ripped out of my mouth before I know it. My face is uncomfortably hot and my fists are clenched tightly, my nails biting into the flesh of my palms. I’m trying to breathe normally through my nose, trying not to take deep heated breaths that will only fuel my anger. My anger, and, even though I refuse to acknowledge it, my jealousy. It takes me a few seconds of red annoyance to realize the room has gone quiet. Once the pissed off haze dissolves from my vision, I notice Jean looking at me with wide eyes and a small, delighted smile. Turning my head, Reiner is looking at me with an amused expression, while Bert just looks at me with a small color of pity.

My already hot cheeks burn hotter.

“Oh my God,” Reiner whispers. _Shit_. I close my eyes, turning my head away from him in embarrassment, readying myself for the explosion. And it comes. “You want to fuck Mr. Ackerman, don’t you, Jaeger?” Reiner all but yells.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Mom could hear that through two floors. I just hope Dad isn’t around.

“Holy shit! I knew it!” Reiner laughs loudly when I don’t reply back immediately. I hear shuffling, and I can assume it’s him putting on his shirt for the day.

Irritation lights up in me. “Knew what?” I snap at him, turning rapidly to glare at him.

He chuckles at my expression lightly and holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey now. I don’t judge. I just had this inkling that you like dick.” He taps his forehead, “My gaydar is strong.”

Jean spits out a laugh, then giggles like a goddamn fool. _Fuck him_.

My blush is probably radiating all over my body now. “I-I… well… I- Well... you know what, Reiner? Fuck off.” I stand up from my blanket bed and walk pass a hysterical Jean and a blushing Bert.

“Oh, come on, Eren,” Jean yells after me, “We won’t judge you if you want to get hot and sweaty with your _Corporal_!”

Reiner’s bellowing laugh mixes in with Jean’s.

_Seriously. Fuck them_. I think bitterly, marching my way upstairs. I smile a tightlipped smile to Mom who’s in the kitchen, scrambling eggs and toasting beard, and hurriedly make my way to my room. Still with a bitter feeling settling in my lower stomach at the thought of Levi and Smith together, I get dressed quickly. I don’t need Reiner spending time with my mom without me present.

Levi’s gray eyes flash across the center of my mind again, demanding to be acknowledged. The skin on my neck prickles when I think about the intensity of those gray orbs. The memory of them from yesterday, looking crazed and wild as he yells madly at Hanji and Erwin rock through me like violent shudders. Never in my memory, because I don’t have a lot, and never in Eren’s memories, has Levi’s eyes ever looked that intense.

But then again, they could have and Eren just hasn’t shown me yet.

_Not ready_. I hear Eren whisper pass his built up walls.

I inhale deeply, rubbing my temples in frustration.

After a quick bathroom trip, which involved a moment of me looking over myself in the mirror, taking in the dark circles under my eyes and the slight remaining blush painted on my cheeks, I walk downstairs, hearing the booming voice of Reiner. Bert, Reiner, Jean, and Mom are all seated at the small kitchen table. There’s a giant plate piled with eggs, and only a dent in the mountain, in the middle of the table. Bert and Jean are eating happily while Reiner is practically shoveling fork load after fork load of eggs into his big mouth.

“Good morning, Sweetie,” Mom smiles to me, biting into the corner of her toast. Jean and Reiner both look up at the same time to look at me. Reiner wiggles his eyebrows while Jean only arches one.

I inhale deeply. “Morning, Mom.”

“Were you boys up late? I thought I heard some roughhousing late last night.” Mom glares at me half-heartedly as I sit down in front of an empty plate.

Shrugging my shoulders, I pile my plate up.

“It was nothing, Mrs. Jaeger,” Jean speaks around his food. “Just a small prank me and Bert pulled on him. Harmless, really.”

Mom’s eyes light up maliciously, “Oh, really? What did you do?”

I groan, “Mom. Really?”

She looks at me, her eyes still bright. “Sorry, Honey, but pranks are funny. As long as you don’t get hurt, I’m all for pranks.”

“Hm, that means I must pull some more.” Jean smiles almost cruelly.

Reiner smacks down his fork. “Hold on a second!” He turns to Bert with wide eyes, “You pulled a prank on Jaeger and _didn’t inform me_?”

If I wasn’t sitting right next to him, I wouldn’t notice Bert’s forehead glisten with fresh sweat. “You were sleeping so peacefully. We didn’t want to wake you.”

“Okay, that sounded gay.” Jean whines. He turns to look directly at Reiner. “We didn’t tell you because you’re loud as hell and we couldn’t wake you up last night. Jesus, man, you sleep like the dead.”

Reiner shakes his head and lets out a huff. “See, now I know that’s bullshit-,”

“Watch your language, please,” Mom smiles, but we all hear the warning underneath.

“Oh, okay, sorry. Well, I know that’s bull _crap_ , because I slept terribly last night.”

“Why? You can sleep in your car and sleep seven hours.” Bert says.

Reiner shrugs, “I had a super weird dream last night.” Reiner’s eyes connect with mine. “It was super weird, and you were in it, Jaeger. We were, like, standing on some really tall trees. Your arms were cut out off… And that’s not even the weirdest part! They were, like, smoking! Yeah, and you were also screaming about killing me.”

Bert’s body is tensed up next to mine. I can see under the table where one of his hands are resting on his legs. It’s curled up in a tight fist. I look over to Jean, and he’s slowly chewing on his toast, watching Reiner with alert eyes.

“Oh my, that does sound weird.” Mom answers, painting the tense air between Bert, Jean, and I with vibrant colors. “The weirdest dream I’ve had is…”

Zoning Mom out, I finish my breakfast as slowly as I can, processing everything that’s happened. My body still aches from my short, uncomfortable sleep, and my eyes feel heavy and itchy. Eren is still blocked away from me, his earlier words of “Not ready” tickle my conscious. Why is it, suddenly, that he doesn’t want to show anything? Why is he being so quiet? Is it Levi?

Even thinking his name makes the treacherous muscle in my chest contract and jump. I pulled on the same pair of jeans I wore yesterday this morning, so the piece of paper with his number on it is still in my pocket, burning a hole through the fabric into my skin. Why did he give me his number, then tell me it didn’t mean I should call him? He said for emergencies. Is he worried about me or Eren?

But by this point, soaking in all I’ve learned, everyone assumes that I am Eren.

Yet, the million dollar question here is: _Am I Eren?_

Mom voice brings me out of my head. “Alright. Time for school, boys.”

Reiner reaches over and grabs one of Mom’s hands with both of his. “Thank you, Mrs. Jaeger, for letting us into your humble abode.”

“Reiner, I swear to God.” I growl.

Mom giggles. _Mom, no, stop. You are only encouraging him_. “You boys come back anytime, alright?”

Jean gathers his school bags near the door while Reiner and Bert help Mom with putting away the dishes and throwing away uneaten eggs. I’m putting on my shoes when Jean’s hand clasps my shoulder.

“I’m riding with you, buddy.”

“Drive yourself,” I reply.

“Don’t drive.” he smiles widely at me.

“Get Reiner to drive you.”

“Yeah right. Guy’s a maniac behind the wheel.”

I sigh, standing straight up after both my shoes are on my feet. “Why am I not surprised?”

It takes a couple minutes for Reiner to pull away from Mom, this time Bert urging him away instead of me. Once everyone is out of the kitchen except me and Mom, she walks over and wraps an arm around my midsection and pulls me into a hug, stroking down my hair with her other hand.

“Did you have fun?” She asked.

_Die. Reiner._

_Are you going to attack Bert, too?_

_You were his friend. His comrade._

_He said he forgives you._

I sigh heavily before answering. “It was definitely interesting.”

“Well,” Mom giggles, “that’s something, I guess. Have a good day at school.”

The air is hot and muggy when I walk down to the driveway. Jean is already seated in the front seat, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. When he sees me coming, he looks up and smiles widely at me, his teeth shiny in the morning light.

Oh my God. I want to punch his face.

“Onward to school, peasant.” Jean sings when I drop myself into the driver’s seat.

“Either you shut the hell up, or you’re walking to school.” I mumble, fitting the key into the ignition and turning the car on.

“Damn. I don’t know why Armin likes you so much this time around. You’re still a dick.”

_Me, Bert, Annie, Connie, Mikasa, Sasha, Ymir, Krista, Hanji, and Levi, ring back in my ears. Just call us the Titan Club._

“So, uh, speaking of Armin.” I murmur.

“Hm?” Jean was looking out the window, but turns to me when I say Armin’s name.

I shallow, paying close attention to the road and Reiner’s car in front of me. Which was swaying from left to right. “Do you have any idea why Armin doesn’t… remember?”

I can’t see him, but I hear Jean make a noise in the back of his throat. A disgruntled, surprised sound. “Hey, listen. Smith told us you don’t have your--Eren’s or whatever’s-- memories, and I don’t really want to be the one to tell you, okay?” His voice is low and tight, uncomfortable. Which is weird, coming from him.

I pinch my eyebrows. “Why?” I ask cautiously.

“Because… because, Jaeger, it’s not something to discuss on our way to school. Also, this is just something you have to find out on your own.”

I pause. Then I open my mouth. “Is the reason why Marco doesn’t remember is because he died so early?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Jaeger.” Jean hisses.

A dark feeling of regret forms in my stomach. That was shitty of me to bring up. “I’m sorry.”

Jean inhales deeply. “I-it’s alright. He’s alive now. That’s all that matters now.” Without even looking at him, I know his face is pulled downwards in sorrow, matching his remorseful tone.

My skin crawls when my mind wraps around my next question. “D-did Armin…?”

“Eren.” Jean cuts in. “What the fuck did I just say?” He snaps out, irritation and anger coloring his tone.

Jean closes himself off for the rest of the ride to school. And I get it, speaking about a dark past is painful, and I feel like a dick for being up bad memories, but there’s just one more question swimming across my mind that I can’t get rid of. In a heavy silence, I drive us into the school parking lot and pull into an empty spot. Before Jean can make a break for it, I open my mouth.

“Do you really think Levi and Smith are fucking?” my voice is high with desperate emotion and I can’t the image out of my head.

Behind that mental picture, also stuck in my head, is the earliest memory of Levi’s lips on mine.

When I look over to Jean, I notice, surprisingly, that he’s gazing at me softly. Pity coating over his eyes. My heart thumps uncomfortably in my chest, waiting for his answer.

“That’s always been a mystery, Jaeger.”

****  
  


***

****  
  


He’s not looking at me. I watch as his eyes gaze over everything and everyone in the room that isn’t me. There’s not much to be heard in Mr. Ackerman’s sixth period Creative Writing class. Our assignment today was to write about a color. Try to explain the color without naming said color. We weren’t allowed to use cliché descriptions either. Mr. Ackerman made sure to drill in the fact that if we used “like a tree in a forest” or “like blood from a wound” he’d drop our overall score at the end of the class a whole grade score.

We got to choose our colors. The students I’m sandwiched between, Daz and Hitch, both choose blue. With quick glances at their sheets, I can see that both of them are writing about the sky, and if that isn’t cliché, then I don’t know what is. It only took me five seconds to decide what my color was going to be.

Gray.

Did I really have any choice to choose different.

“Five more minutes, brats. Then we’re reading them out.” Levi breaks the silence.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

I look down to my blank piece of paper and only see one word at the top of it.

Gray.

With a shaky hand, I write down gray.

Five minutes go by in a second, because before I know it, Levi speaks up again. “Pens down. Annie, go first.”

Annie stands up from her seat with a bored expression and a purse to her lips. She never voluntarily speaks up in this class, so to be picked first to read probably annoys her. I half listen to her description of the color pink. When she first read out the word, there were soft snickers sounded around the room, mostly coming from Hitch, because Annie is the last person to expect to pick pink. But she did.

When Jean was picked, his color was brown. His voice was soft as he explained light colored freckles dusted on high cheekbones. I hate to admit it, but I followed his every word. Hearing Marco in all of them. Maybe our conversation this morning really got to him…

One by one, the whole class read off their assignments. Some longer than others. Some complete bullshit, while others actually sounded like the writer tried. Most were read with little to no confidence, worried that they were doing it wrong and Mr. Ackerman was going to take points away.

Once Daz was done, and after an intense staredown between him and Levi, his gray, gray, gray eyes turned to me.

“Jaeger.”

Licking my lips, I stand up from my seat. By this point, everyone in the room was watching me closely, wondering if I was going to make history again. Apparently me calling Mr. Ackerman Corporal will forever go down in Trost High School history as one of the stupidest, yet bravest thing to ever do.

_Wow. What Assholes._

I clear my throat, looking at my paper. Not many words are written, but enough.

“Gray. Stormy clouds hiding the sun; becoming the sun when warmth is forgotten. The feeling of letting go, yet hanging on because there is no extreme, only middle. Eyes so solid and piercing, the answer to everything. No right. No wrong. There’s no evil, no good. We are not monsters. We are all monsters. The only thing that makes sense. Colors that are too bright, too flashy not good enough. Never good enough. The color of being trapped behind walls,” I look up from my paper. From the corner of my eye, I see Jean and Annie watching me closely, Jean with a mouth half open and Annie with wide eyes. But none of that matters when I see gray. “Yet freed at the same time.”

When I finish, half the class lets out an almost silent sigh of disappointment. They were really hoping I’d fuck up again, but I didn’t. What I did was clearly the right thing to do. One look at Mr. Ackerman-- one look at Levi, and anyone would know that.

The color I just explained was finally looking at me. Not pass me. Not through me. Not around me. But at me. I held the gray. They were wide and honest. His expression remained the same, bored and collected, but his eyes. They were all that mattered. His eyebrows were raised slightly. His jaw wasn’t as clenched.

His eyes weren’t as cold.

Levi cleared his voice before finally speaking. “So someone in this damn classroom can follow the rules.” He looks away from me, the gray hiding. “Stupid brats.” He mutters.

Sitting down, my whole body feels like it’s burning. The tips of my ears feel hot and my cheeks ought to be a flaming red. Why am I so embarrassed? It’s not like I claimed my love for the guy…

I mean, I sort of did, but that’s beside the point.

The image of Levi and Smith has been bleached into my mind. I can’t get it out. All I can picture are hazy memories of Levi’s face in the midst of pleasure, but instead of my body with his, it’s Smith’s.

Were they ever together?

I bet they’ve fucked a couple times.

I seeth inwardly. Smith better keep his hands off my Levi.

Levi’s sharp accusing voice directed to Hitch pulls me from that thought. He’s not mine now. He’s not even Eren’s now.

I glance up, almost shyly, to Levi’s face. If I want to be honest to myself, Levi isn’t really the Levi, the Corporal, I know. They’re all different. Annie and Jean. More likable to say the least. Bert is more confident. Hanji calmer in a way. Even Smith doesn’t carry the powerful air to him that he used to.

Levi. He’s more… more…

My chest flutters. It doesn’t matter. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want me, but the Eren inside me. The Eren that fought alongside him. The Eren that knows lost and pain. He wants someone to mourn with him about lost times and past lives, not someone that is close to ignorant about it all.

_Eren_. I think towards the still high wall blocking me off. _Eren, what should I do?_

The bell rings, ending sixth period. My mind is still silent as the room grows in volume. Jean and Annie both walk up to be, but say nothing. Annie just nods a little, with a small half grin on her face, telling me she knows. She understands. As Jean walks by, he pats my shoulder once before leaving. This _is_ his time with Marco. His brown.

“Jaeger.”

Right when I’m about to walk from the classroom, on my way to the library and Armin, I’m interrupted by his voice.

“Stay back for a bit. I need to talk to you, shithead.”

_My gray._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even gonna apologize that this took so long. Because I know y'all won't forgive me. I had complications, college shit, vacation stuff, and work, so I'm sorry!!! I love you though! 
> 
> greeneyedskank.tumblr.com


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for being patient. I love you soooso much.
> 
> WE FINALLY GET SOME ERERI. CAN I GET A HELL YEAH?!?!?!?!?!?!!?
> 
> currently not edited, I JUST REALLY WANTED TO POST THIS GODDAMN CHAPTER SO BEAR WITH ME OKAY

For a second, I don't move. With a few simple words--one of them being 'shithead' -- my whole body locks up and my stomach flips on itself. His endless eyes are watching me, mocking me with the color they take. The color I half-heartedly, but subconsciously whole-heartedly, wrote about. Levi's standing behind his desk, his hands moving mindlessly as they pick up and set down stacks of paper. I can tell he's barricading behind his desk because while he's watching me, with hooded eyes striped of emotion, he's not meeting my eyes. His body is turned away from mine.

"Close the door, would you? No one needs to hear whatever fucked up conversation we're about to have." He snaps, dropping his hooded gaze from me to the papers in hand.

Turning to silently shut the door, I lick my dry lips. "What makes you think our conversation will be fucked up?" Taking a deep breath, I turn back to him. To the man who's wrinkling his brow and flaring his nostrils a bit.

"What," Levi begins, finally lifting his head to look me in the eyes, "was that shit you just pulled? What are you? Fucking Nicolas Sparks?"

I want to say a million things in my confused, nervous haze, but all that manages to actually become words is, "You read Nicolas Sparks?"

Levi groans, "Jesus, Jaeger."

If this was anyone else, I would have laughed. If this was anyone else I was giving grief to, I would have given them more. But this is Levi. The man with the very name that sends shivers down my back and gives me a lump in my throat.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, breaking eye contact from his unamused stare. With a hesitant step, I walk back to my desk and drop down into the seat. This puts me right in front of him, separated by limited space that could easily be called "No Man's Land". His eyes are stormy; so different from earlier when I finished my writing piece. The orbs that were anything but cold, aflamed with conflicting emotions. Battling between good and bad that sparked the gray color beautifully, giving me delicious feelings in my chest. But the only emotion I can pick out of them now is annoyance.

Levi's sigh colors the tense atmosphere. "You have some balls, kid."

"Why do you say that?" I ask quietly, confused.

Levi, then, smacks the papers down onto the surface of his desk roughly, the whipping sound an offending bang in my ears.

"Stop fucking with me, Jaeger." His voice is cold. I watch him tighten his fists. With a slow step, like a calculating cat on the hunt, he walks around his desk, entering "No Man's Land". The air around him is menacing, a pressure that weighs down on my chest. Why is he so riled up?

Is he offended? Did he get offended by my words?

Does he not appreciate the feelings I have for him?

Can he not see past Eren and his past to see me?

Irritation tickles up my throat and erupts from my mouth. "What are you talking about? Why are you so upset?"

Levi walks forward, almost fluidly, until he slams his fist down onto my desk. I flinch back from the impact and watch as Levi slowly lowers his upper body until he's face to face with me. This position is exactly like the first day of school. I didn't notice it then, but looking at the real thing now, I see that his irritation and anger back then must have been an act. An act to mask whatever true feelings he was experiencing, because now? Now he leans toward me, staring into my eyes almost disgustedly, the look so intimidating and bone-chilling, that I would have to be crazy to think it's fake. No.

This, right now, is real.

With an almost weakened heart, I wonder why his anger is even there.

"If you're pitying me, then I'm shoving my foot up your ass." He growls lowly, his voice smooth like silk, threatening like a snake about to strike.

My eyebrows pinch in momentary confusion. Pitying? What?

I open my mouth to reply but he continues.

"I don't need your pity, okay? I know you're not Eren, so stop trying to make me feel better." His voice is strained.  As I sit there, too confused to answer, the anger that dwelled in his eyes, the anger that scared me and left me breathless, slowly drains to show something underneath. Something I know he doesn't want me to see, but something he can't hide.

Hurt. Mourning.

Hopelessness.

It literally makes me speechless. My mouth hangs open in shock as he continues to glare at me, his body hard and guarded.

He barks out a bitter laugh suddenly, "I don't even need him, so I don't care if you're not him. He's just a stupid, gullible brat. _You're_ just a stupid, gullible brat." He chuckles in my face. His face is lifted and vivid, while his eyes remain hard and almost like stone.

Mixed in with my pained feelings, a golden strike of Eren's feelings slash through mine. Drowning me. Overbearing my senses. My chest feels like it's heavy with mud, like my heart is working four times as hard to pump. As I sit here and listen to Levi speak madness, I feel deep sorrow.

Eren feels likes he's dying.

His wall is still there. I can't hear what's he's saying, but I can't help but know he's yelling. Screaming. It's an almost invisible tickle in the back of my conscious, but I feel it. His mind block wall is chipping away. His emotions are slipping and filling into mine. It's hard to distinguish mine from his, but I can tell the dark, deathly sorrow that's ripping under my skin isn't from me.

I might love Levi. His face and voice might make my heart jump and my skin crawl almost in a comfortable way, but Levi is so much bigger for Eren. I don't need to see all his memories and hear all his thoughts to know that. It doesn't take a genius to know that Levi's mere presence is such a big impact on Eren's behavior. It doesn't take an outsider to know that Levi breathes life in Eren's living corpse.

Eren was content with just me. He was bearable--even if at the time I didn't think so-- when Levi wasn't in _my_ life, but the second Levi decides to make an appearance?

It's because of Levi that Eren broke through that time by the bookstore. It's because of Eren's affections for Levi that he managed to push me down and embrace Levi. It's Levi's reactions that encouraged Eren to push forward without a care in the world for me.

So how in the world can Levi say he doesn't need Eren?

"You asshole." I whisper over Levi's mindless rambling.

He stops. From the expression on his face, I can tell he's shocked that I dared to stand up to him. Before his confusion turns to more anger, I continue.

"You do not have the right to call Eren stupid. You don't have any right to be angry with him. He's done nothing to deserve what you just said," I hiss. I lift my head up more, squaring my shoulders and sitting up straighter.

Levi lifts an eyebrow. "Oh? And what makes you think you can talk to me like that?"

I push myself up to my feet so I stand above him. His expression darkens at that, but I don't pay too much attention to it. "What makes you think you can talk to _me_ like that? Let alone Eren!"

Levi stands up straighter. "Stop talking like he's here! He's not!"

"Yes he is!" I yell back, madly. Heat is pumping through my veins and tiny, cold pinpoints are raining down on the back of my neck. Levi's eyes widen fractionally, then move away from me, looking at the desk. But I see it. Hopelessness.

"Levi," I begin with a softer voice. "Levi, he's here. You _know_ that."

He brings his eyes back to mine, they're darken. "Then did _he_ write that?"

Chills roll freely down my back at his tone.

"N-no." I say almost shyly, but I continue to stand tall in front of him.

He scoffs harshly, "So it was you? What? Wanted my attention so bad?"

I swallow with my dry throat. "I-I, well..."

"What? Did you think that since I can't have Eren, I'll go to you?" He laughs bitterly.

My chest feels heavy and my nose tingles. I'm not saying I want to cry... But I definitely don't feel like laughing right now.

"Jean informed Smith of your dream last night." Levi says tightly. My eyes widen considerably as I look at his bitterly lifted face. "He informed us all about your little dream and how you woke up and tried to fucking kill that Reiner kid."

I gasp softly at his words, my mind filling with deep remorse. "I... I didn't mean to... I-"

"We know. 'It was like he was dream walking,' he said. 'Leftover feelings from Eren.'" Levi's voice raises a bit to imitate Jean.

My standing frame wavers, "How does any of that matter here?"

"Because I don't need you thinking you can be with me because of Eren's feelings. I don't need your pity. I don't _want_ it either." He speaks harshly, his body turning away from me so I can't see his whole face.

My heart drops. "Is that why you're mad?" I ask, scared and embarrassed.

"Huh?" He huffs, looking at me side-eyed.

"You think I like you because of Eren? You think I want to be with you because I feel bad that I'm not Eren, and that's obviously hurting you?" My voice raises a bit, cracking slightly at the end.

"Yes, you asshole!" Levi snaps, turning back to me fully, letting me see his face.

He's much more of an open book in this lifetime.

"Why else," Levi continues, "would you fucking try to be Shakespeare and write about the color of my eyes? Why else would you pant after me like a goddamn dog, waiting for a bone? Why else would you fucking look at me with the same expression Eren did?"

I snap. "Maybe because _I_ love you!"

Levi's eyes narrow and he exhales deeply out his nose. He doesn't believe me.

I ball my fists. "Do you have any idea how long I've lived with you, Levi? You have no idea how many nights I'd spend with you, then wake up and feeling like something is missing! I fucking grew up subconsciously loving you! You have always been there."

"You don't love me, you idiot," he hisses through his teeth.

"I do! Why is it so hard to believe that?"

"Because I'm not the same person as I was before."

My words catch in my throat.

Levi continues, "I am not Corporal Levi. I am not Eren's Corporal anymore. I didn't fucking grow up in Hell this time around. I haven't witnessed any real bloodshed and death. I grew up with an actual loving family that didn't push me to the side and try to kill me. This may be hard to believe, kid, but that changes a person. I'm not that Levi anymore. Not the Levi Eren knew, not the Levi Eren showed you." His voice drops off towards the end, curling downward into an almost hushed tone.

My tongue feels really swollen in my mouth, making it hard to talk. "But... But you're still him," I say thickly. "You're not like me. You _know_ who you are and where you were. The memories you have of the walls and titans are _yours_ , not someone else's. Not someone else who talks to you about them. Not someone else that makes you feel like an outsider!"

I'm frustrated. Can't Levi see that, yes his personality might have changed and he's different, but that he's _still Corporal Levi?_ His heart is the same, his mind is the same.

His feelings of love are still the same.

"Do you still love him?" I ask, cutting off whatever Levi was about to say.

Levi's body hardens and I see his Adam's apple bounce up and down as he swallows.

"I've never said I loved Eren." He says.

For some reason, I find that to be a giant lie, but as I quickly scan through some of the dreams and memories I've seen from Eren, I can say it's true. He's never once said the words to Eren, so how can I know it to be true?

The feeling of Levi's lips on mine is a hard thing to forget.

"You kissed him at _Pixis'_." I mutter, embarrassed.

"You ran away," he quickly retorts.

"I wasn't aware of who you really were then," I mutter even softly.

"See!" Levi snaps, pulling me from my inwardly curled state. "You ran away from me because you didn't know it was me and _you were scared._ " He practically growls.

"No, wai-!"

"I was practically a stranger to you. I made sure I was a complete asshole to you so you'd hate me. You ran away from me, overpowered Eren, because you _didn't know who I was and that terrified you._ Then when you found out I'm actually the one Eren fucking drooled over, you decide to take me on. That's your life, Jaeger! You're so controlled by Eren that you don't even have your own life!"

"You're wrong," I seethe silently.

"Really? I see no indication of that. Tell me, Jaeger, did you have any friends before coming to Trost?" He hums the question.

My eyebrows furrow and my teeth catch the inside of my bottom lip.

"No? Okay, so when you came to Trost, how easy was it to make friends? With Jean? With Armin? Super fucking easy, am I right?"

"That's..." I says brokenly, "That's different."

"Would you really look at Armin if he wasn't someone from the past?" Levi questions coldly.

I'm starting to feel nauseated. I don't like how he's saying Armin's name. I don't like how he makes it sound like Armin is one of the reasons why my life is so fucked up. Armin is a goddamn beckon of normalcy for me in this whole bullshit situation.

"Stop," I hiss through my teeth. "You have no right to say that to me. Armin has nothing to do with it. I would be naturally drawn to him because he's a good fucking person. Just like Reiner is drawn to Annie and Bert. Like how Marco is drawn to Jean. The people without memories have their own lives too, and they're on the same fucking path. Levi, I have my own life. I fucking live it." I pause to look at him. He's standing a few steps away from the desk now, almost like the air around me is repelling him away. His face is readable, but barely, since all I can read is distant annoyance.

I continue. "Yes, I may have been warded off from others as I grew up. How could I not? I might have had fucking problems as a child, but because of Eren, I know how to goddamn appreciate them! Problems with my mom? Never in a millions years would I find them important if I didn't know what's it's like to lose her. Having issues with people who are ignorant and selfish, if it wasn't for my dreams and the memories, I would be one of those mindless pigs, not thinking about the people that fight for our gluttony pleasures.

"No! Because of Eren, I have all this fucking knowledge. Knowledge about the world and how it works. About how it's tough to survive, but it's fucking _possible_. How hope is the only thing in the world that can never die if you just keep the spirit of it alive. I'm the way I am today because of Eren. The Eren you know, fuck, he's so goddamn head strong it makes me want to rip out my teeth. He's irrational and emotional. He has no control." I look Levi straight in the eyes, hiding nothing. "He only knows control because of you."

Levi's left eye twitches, but other than that, he remains motionless. Taking me in fully.

"Levi, because of you, Eren knows love. He knows acceptance and mercy. So I don't know why it's so goddamn hard for you to accept, that you also taught _me_ all those things as well."

The man in front of me licks his lips almost nervously. "Like I said brat, that's not me anymore."

"And that's where I call bullshit!" I shout, irritated. Irate. Fucking _pissed._

Is he blind?

"Situations may change. The time, the place, the culture. But you. Levi! Your back story is different, but you are the same man I know. The same man I grew up with. The same man Eren loves. I love! It's really not that hard to understand!"

Heat courses through my veins. My face feels extremely hot and my legs feel restless.

So I move.

With small, slow steps, I step around my desk and slip through the small space to cross over into "No Man's Land" where Levi is watching me with pursed lips and guarded eyes. It could be my imagination, but this side of my desk is colder. I can feel Levi pulsating with an uninviting atmosphere, but yet.

He isn't moving.

With my heart beating in my throat, I stop in front of him. His chest is about five inches from mine, and I'm looking down on him. With the crisp details I've been shown recently, I take with almost a regrettable notice, that Levi isn't as short as he was in the last life. His eyes come to my nose while it was usually at my chin.

_He'd kiss my chin when no one was watching_ , a sudden memories comes to me.

If I'm still enough, I can feel Levi's breath blow over the skin of my exposed neck. This close, I can smell the cinnamon and cigarette smoke that seems to engulf him in this life.

Last time when I smelled the cinnamon and smoke, I was tasting it while Eren was kissing Levi. I remember the fear I felt. Fear of Levi, fear of Eren. Fear of myself. I truly thought I was crazy. But as I stand this close to Levi again, the scent is welcoming and bone-chilling. I want to wrap myself up in a blanket that smells like him.

I want to be wrapped up in him.

As I slowly lift a hand up towards Levi's cheek, he speaks. "If that's true, and you live your own life. Then that means I don't know you." His voice is surprisingly soft, considering his face is twisted with discomfort and warning.

My fingertips faintly touch Levi's skin. It's like an icy fire.

Since when did love make people think in oxymorons?

With a little bravery, I reply. "Then get to know me."

Levi's eyes widen a bit. If someone wasn't looking for it, they wouldn't take notice.

"I'm your teacher, Jaeger." he retorts, not as harshly as I was expecting.

"You never say my name," I mutter softly. Sadly.

My fingers are pressed more firmly on his cheek. I start to slide them backwards, towards the nape of his neck and his hair.

Levi's quiet for a moment before replying. "I can't." He sounds almost pained.

There's a pinch in my heart that I try to ignore. Will I ever be Eren to him, and not _Eren_?

The way his eyes are filling with seven shades of sadness, makes me uncertain.

"That's okay," I lie. Since he's not moving from my touch, I take a step closer.

"That doesn't mask the problem that I'm your teacher."

"I'm of legal age, unlike last time."

Levi's nostrils flare. "I hate you," he says half-heartedly.

He doesn't mean it, but hearing those words still hurt.

"Well, I _love_ you." I whisper. "And don't you dare say that you don't believe me."

Levi opens his mouth to say something, but I don't give him enough time to do that. I dip my head slightly down to touch my trembling lips to his. Levi's body jolts with shock, and I think he's going to push me away.

He doesn't.

It's the bookstore all over again, except this time, I'm confused as to who he's kissing. Before, he was kissing Eren, but now, I could pretend and think that he's kissing me. His arms are still by his sides and I still have one hand on the side of Levi's face, but.

It's perfect.

I softly kiss Levi's closed lips, tasting his skin and the saliva that he licked onto them earlier. He exhales deeply through his nose as I press small kiss after small kiss to his closed, unresponsive  mouth, feeling the surprise plush of his lips. His smell is even more addicting this close to him.

When I plant the sixth small kiss to his lips without getting a response, I feel heartbreakingly discouraged. My heart beats rapidly and painfully in my chest, as I think I got my answer from him. My rejection.

So with one last soft peck, I bid goodbye.

Levi's lips open under mine. His _tongue_ presses against my lips.

My eyes fly open in shock. With my face so close to his, I can still see that his eyes are also open, but he's regarding me with a surprised expression. Almost like he's shocked that he responded too.

Well I'm not going to give him any time to question his actions.

I open my mouth further, touching his tongue with mine and _goddamn._ It's amazing. His tongue is soft and sweet, while his breath tastes like smoky cigarettes, but I don't mind. Closing my eyes again, I suck Levi's tongue into my mouth and snake my other hand around his body, pulling him closer to me.

I hear him make a defending sound in the back of his throat, but I ignore it. I swirl my tongue around Levi's, feeling the smoothness of the underside, then the bumpy-ish surface of the top. I move my lips carefully, trying to recall how Eren moved them when he kissed Levi before. It's sloppy compared to that time, definitely more saliva involved, but the fact that Levi isn't pushing me away reassures me.

The fact that he's kissing me back, makes me want to write a novel on how to be happy.

"Levi," I moan his name around his tongue and lips. His body is starting to voluntarily lean into mine. His tongue is pushing and pulling more competitively with mine, creating a delicious game of tug-a-war.

I notice with half a mind that his hands are resting on my waist, hesitantly.

Levi inhales sharply through his nose when he hears me say his name. His lips and kiss become rough and I feel like I'm being eaten alive. Through his kiss, I can taste desperation. I can feel bitterness and pained sadness. It's a bitter taste, but as long as I can always have his lips on mine... Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.

When I'm about to reach down and pull his bottom lip between my teeth, I hear the classroom door open.

"Hey Eren, Jean said you were in here... Oh shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there it is.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda short, but hey, it got to where I wanted it to go
> 
> Major Eremin feels in this one~~
> 
> Enjoy!

The worst thing, I think, about Armin interrupting Levi and I kissing is that I still want to continue kissing him and lavishing him with my mouth. I don't want to unfold him from my arms, to let go of his solid warmth. The little time he was kissing me back, I didn't absorb it all in, so the memory of how his lips worked against mine is already fleeting. I don't want to have the moment we are sharing to pass by so quickly, to have it easily forgotten and ignored. He's the kind of person who would do that. He hasn't changed that much from the man Eren and I know, so I know he'll probably pretend to forget, he'll pretend it meant nothing and that it was spur of the moment. I know he'll-- unknowingly or not-- break my heart one inch at a time.

_Please don't, Levi._

"I- uh... I'm just gonna wait outside now." Armin stutters nervously, averting his eyes from the both us. Armin quickly reverses himself, shutting the door behind him, breaking the tense air with a click that feels like a bullet in my body.

It's when the door is closed and I can taste the heaviness of the air, I realize that Levi is still pulled close to my body and he's looking up at me. My eyes connect with his gaze and I swallow thickly. What I was thinking before... I think I'm witnessing it head on now.

His expression is guarded, but slacked. His eyes aren't lit with emotion, but blazing with a big show of nothing. Seconds pass where we both don't say anything. I don't think I could at this point. My throat feels swollen and dry; my tongue seemingly too big for my mouth. Levi's heartbeat vibrates against my hands that are still holding onto his body. The faster than normal pace the only indication that he's feeling anything, because without his heart beating unspoken words into my hands, I wouldn't think he felt anything from my lips. Feeling almost bitter, I think I kind of want to kiss him again, just so I can get _some_ kind of reaction from the man. Even if it is negative.

"Well, shit." He at last says, sounding irritatingly _calm_ ; his face is still close enough that I can almost taste his words. "I hope he doesn't tell Erwin. I don't need him to chew me a new one, again."

Then suddenly I remember that we're still in school. In Levi's _classroom_ , where, proof already given, anyone can come in and see. It would be a different story if Jean or Hanji came in, but Armin? He doesn't remember, doesn't know that the care and affection I have for Levi runs further than a thousand years.

Feeling panicked for the man I'm holding, I start to stumble over my words. "I... Oh shit, I'm so... Levi, I. I'm sorry!" Closing my eyes in embarrassment and shame, I hang my head down until my forehead gently knocks into his.

A breathless chuckle from Levi blows over my neck. "Sorry? Heh. I guess I'm sorry, too."

My heart rate, which was high to begin with because of the kiss and then being caught, picked up again. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Because I was stupid to think you were so different from the brat. You're both rash. Both speak louder with actions than words."

"I- What?" I finally open my eyes and look down to see him gazing up at me. I detach my forehead from his. Even after all this, he's still thinking about Eren.

Under my own confusion and distress, I can feel Eren's.

Levi's steady stare analyzes me for a few seconds, drinking in my dejected expression, before shifting away. His eyes aren't the only thing that leaves me, as I feel him slowly step away from my embrace, taking away his heartbeat, the only thing that's keeping me from crumbling. I let him go, wordlessly. The space between us grows wider and colder with each step he takes toward his desk.

Levi swallows nervously. "You can leave now. Don't want to keep Mushroom waiting."

The nickname sparks an old, _old_ memory.

Stupidly, I reply, "He's not a mushroom anymore."

Levi hums softly, not looking at me, but at his shoes. "I suppose you're right."

I take a small step forward, hating the frozen air that engulfed me when he left me. "Levi..."

"Jaeger," he speaks loudly, but calmly, "you really need to get the hell out of this classroom."

My heart drops, for what feels like the seven hundredth time today. But I don't let it get to me.

"I'll call you." I say as confidently as I can. I refuse to give in. How far do I have to push this man for him to realize and _notice_ me?

This gets him to look at me. Gray eyes to green and gold ones. Not exactly as before in another life, but still filled with emotions that weren't lost to time.

"That is for emergencies only."

"This is an emergency," I reply, baiting him.

He takes it. "How so, kid?"

"Because I love you." I say as proudly as I can. "And it would be one if you forgot that." My voice drops deeply as I almost whisper the last words. I don't want to scare him. Right now, it's like I'm facing a rabid animal. One wrong move and I'm done.

With Levi, I can never be done.

Levi's Adam's apple bounces when he swallows thickly. With his eyes averted again, he mutters, "You're stupid. You can get out now." His words weren't harsh. If anything, they made me smile because, fuck.

He's really cute when he's flustered.

And he is. The expressionless face I dreaded and saw after the kiss is slowly draining away. With a watchful eye, I see a light pink dusting on his cheeks. While his body was turned away from me, on defense, he's slightly facing me again, his shoulders less rigid and stiff. His jaw is clenched, either in anger or he's preventing himself from smiling shyly.

For the sake of my life, I hope it's the latter.

I don't want to leave him.

What I really want to do is cross the less frigid "No Man's Land" and kiss his face goodbye. His face, his hand, his hair, his goddamn _leg_ , even. I just want him under my lips, but I know if I do that, I might cross a line. I already crossed a major line today with kissing him in the first place, but, miraculously, it didn't end up a total shit storm. So, without another word to him, without meeting his eyes again, I gather my notebooks and folders and walk out the door, closing it softly behind me. Separating us.

When I see Armin in front of me, leaning against the opposite wall, eye wide, I'm almost afraid. What if he does tell someone about what he saw? Someone who isn't safe, like Hanji. If he told Erwin, I'm not exactly sure what he would do, but it wouldn't be so bad, I presume, since Erwin knows.

But as I ponder this, I come to the conclusion that I shouldn't be scared of my best friend. So the first thing I say isn't what I thought I would say. It's the one thing I can say that will hopefully make him smile and get rid of that "deer in headlights" look, because I don't particularly like having Armin look as scared as I feel.

"It sounds weird when you curse. Feels wrong." I break the silence, my voice light and seemingly calm.

Armin's blue eye widen and twinkle with the smallest touch of unwanted mirth. "Well," he begins, "desperate times calls for desperate measures."

Smiling softly, but mostly sadly, I step up to my best friend. "Armin..." I begin.

"Eren," he cuts me off. He places a small hand on my shoulder. His palm paints my shoulder with heat, heat that my body seems to need and yearn for, because I lean into his touch. "Are you okay?"

Not expecting that answer, my face wrinkles in confusion. I open my mouth to reply, but end up shutting it quickly after. Armin squeezes my shoulder, comforting me.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully.

I'm so happy, I mean, I kissed him. Even though Levi's worried, thoughts, and affections are still bending toward Eren, he finally sees _me._ He could become mine if I push far enough. All these selfish thoughts are highlighting my brain, shooting off colorful endorphins of bliss into my body. The sensation is addicting in a bittersweet way, because under the happiness, under the relief, I can feel him.

He lies heavy in my chest, causing a dull ache in my heart that is almost strong enough to drown out everything I'm feeling. Under my golden powerful colors, a swirly dark gray is storming away. I can't exactly hear anything he has to say, but I know he's thrashing around and screaming. I can't feel him in my head, but sense him throughout my whole being, an icy prickling that's almost too unbearable to ignore.

He's in the trembling of my fingers, in the quivering of my lips. The crawling of my skin on the back of my neck is him. The sudden urge to gag and empty my stomach onto the floor comes from him. He's in the single tear that drips over onto my cheek.

"Eren?" Armin's voice rises in concern, eyes widening further. His hand comes up and cups my cheek, swiping away at my tear. His thumb leaving a fiery path on my face.

 _Eren_ , I mourn internally.

"I-I'm fine." I whisper externally.

The hand on my cheek removes itself only to drop to my hand. The blond grabs onto my fingers and I feel myself being pulled down the hallway, away from Mr. Ackerman's room. Away from Levi. Away from the problem that Armin thinks I'm dealing with.

But I can't be pulled away from what's inside me. Not for the first time in my life, I wish that I was truly alone with myself.

Armin pulls me into an empty computer lab. He softly closes the door behind us, but keeps the lights off. With my hand still in his, he leads me to the two farthest seats from the door and lets go of my hand as he sits down. I follow him.

"Did he pressure you?" Armin begins. He sounds concerned and angry. _For me._

I shake my head. "No."

"Did you kiss him first?"

"Yeah," I whisper. My eyes are wide, and still embarrassingly glossy.

"Did he kiss you back?" Armin pushes back loose strands of hair from his face, giving me a full view of the worry he has for me.

"Not at first. He just... stood there."

"But he eventually did?"

"Yeah."

Armin's quiet for a long second before he speaks again. "Then, Eren, why are you crying?" His voice is soft and soothing. He reaches towards me and I meet him halfway, grabbing his hand with mine. A soft sigh slips from my lips when my skin touches his, and I feel less cold.

How could I have ever been scared because of him?

"Because I'm a mess." I whisper brokenly, feeling even more inside.

I still can't make out the words Eren's screaming.

Armin shakes his head, "No you're not." His reassuring smile easing me. He pauses for a moment before starting again. "When did you get feelings for him?"

"Almost my whole life." I whisper softly, letting the truth slip before my mind can catch up.

Armin's body leans back, but his hand still remains in mine, though that doesn't stop me from tightening my grip.

"You knew Mr. Ackerman before moving here? Then why, when you first got here, talked like you had no idea who he was?" He's looking at me with a tilt of his head, but his eyes are still soft and inviting.

But still, Armin fucking Arlert. Never forgetting the minor of details.

"I... I basically grew up with him," I explain, trying to stick as close to the truth as I possibly could without telling Armin about... basically everything. "I've known him for my whole life. He's... always been there. I always looked up to him, looked forward to him, always saw him as the light at the end of the tunnel." My voice trembles and my heart thumbs madly in my chest. By this point, Eren's wordless screaming has died down. He's feel at ease with Armin like I do.

"I guess you could say that I haven't seen him for a long time. Almost feels like a lifetime." I chuckle softly, sadly, at my little inside joke. "So when I moved here, he was suddenly, unprovoked, shoved back into my life. And I realized something..." my voice drifts off. My eyes are burning holes into our joined hands. Armin's pale fingers almost nightmarish compared to my tan one, though his are longer and more slender.

_The same._

"You realized you were in love with him." Armin finishes for me, stating more than questioning.

Inhaling deeply through my parted lips, I nod my head.

Armin squeezes my hand again and a shot of warmth climbs up my arm and crawls into my heart. Having Armin here, hearing him piece together the puzzle I can't speak aloud and not sounding the least bit judgmental, really is the only thing keeping me from either breaking every window in this building or banging my head against a wall.

Also, Armin's probably the only thing keeping Eren from ripping me apart from the inside out.

To my bewilderment, a couple tears drip down from my eyes and splash onto the top of Armin's hands.

"Eren," Armin says my name sadly.

_At least he can say my name._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Babies
> 
> It's gonna get happy soon, I swear!!
> 
> follow me on tumblr!! greeneyedskank.tumblr.com !! ^.^


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *coffin lids flies open*
> 
> *fogs erupts*
> 
> *body sits up abruptly*
> 
> I LIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
> 
> hello my lovelies! Yes I am alive! 
> 
> Okay. Short chapter (by my standards) but it's been so long since I updated that I just wanted something new up. So yes. Enjoy some Pixis/Eren bonding time!

It is when I’m staring almost moodily at my phone, deciding if I should actually call Levi or not, when the device starts to glow and buzz, showing an unknown number. Because of my hurting heart and hopeful spirit, I have the crazy thought that hey—maybe Levi got my number from somewhere, maybe the school files or something, and he is calling _me_ , but when I pick up, it isn’t Levi bored, cool voice that lights up my ears. It’s Pixis.

“Eren, my boy! Finally got around to calling ya. Still interested in working for me?” The old man’s voice is hopeful, and honestly, I completely forgot about applying for his bookstore. That day was just too eventful to remember just a basic, mundane thing. The only event I can truly recall clearly from that day was the very first time Eren ever crawled away from me completely. The very first time my body was truly his body. How scared I was, how I thought I was surely going to die. How all that was silence by lips.

It was the very first time _my_ lips touched Levi’s.

My hand tighten around my phone and my heartbeat rises. Just thinking about Levi’s lips gets me so goddamn emotional. I’ve never been addicted to anything, never have I ever tried drugs or even drinking for that matter, but I know an addiction when I see it. When I live it, and I am addicted to him. He’s the colors of my past, the whisper on my lips. The breath that leaves my lungs. My heart swells at just the thought of him and I know I’m probably romanticizing the thought of him, but I can’t help it.

I need him, and this unsure bullshit he’s dealing with is _killing_ me.

“Eren? Damn it boy, did you give me the right number?” Pixis asks over the phone, his voice low and grumbling, sounding less hopeful.

I snap to attention. “Oh! Yes, Mr. Dot, it’s Eren Jaeger.”

There’s a small chuckle on the other end and I can imagine the older man rolling his eyes, almost knowing what I’m losing my head over.

“Just wanted to make sure. So how ‘bout it?”

“Yes, please. I have way too much free time.” _Thinking about my goddamn Creative Writing teacher._

“Then how about, let’s say, in an hour?” Again, the man’s voice is dripping in hopefulness.

An hour? With my phone still pressed up against my ear, I turn my head to look at the digital clock sitting on my night table. 3:03.

I got home pretty early. After Armin calmed me down and I stopped the hideous crying, we left early, skipping study hall and just opting to go home. Armin had suggested he stay with me, telling me we could watch movies and eat his grandfather’s leftover potato salad at his house, but I declined.

I should have taken up on his offer, because the second I found out Mom wasn’t home and I was alone, I realized I shouldn’t be alone. My phone was becoming the enemy. It had useful, life-changing information that I need to act upon.

Levi’s number.

Pixis asking me to get out of the house, away from my aloneness? A blessing in disguise.

“An hour? What about now? So I can get some extra training under my belt?” I reply smoothly, trying not to seem too eager.

“Eren, boy. I knew you were a smart one.” Pixis laughs freely. My heart aches, jealous of his hurt-free laughter.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Closing his call after the click, I remain seated on my bed for another few seconds, back to staring at the screen.

_I can do this._

With a hesitant thumb, I scroll down my list of contacts before I stop and hover over the name that has taken over my life, the name that has sunk into my skin and has woven into and between my muscles and tendons.

The name that has always been a part of me whether I remembered it or not.

Sucking in a deep breath, puffing my chest out like a goddamn man—because goddamn it, I _am_ a man and when did I become so afraid of everything?—I tap the screen gently, right over his name. Calling him.

With my heart beating in my ears, I press my phone back up against my ear and cheek. The screen feels cool on my burning skin, but I don’t pay much attention because I can hear the ringing. It’s actually rhythmic, unlike my heart.

When I hear a click, I inwardly shout in joy, because that means he picked up.

“Levi?” _Should I call him Mr. Ackerman?_ “Hey, I just wanted to talk to you--.”

“Not now, Jaeger.” He cuts me off bitterly, his voice echoing off through the speakers into my ears and down to my heart. I open my mouth the reply quickly, with an “Oh, I understand,” or a “Okay, can I call you later?” but I don’t, because with that, another click sounds and the call is ended.

“Okay…” I whisper into the dead call. 

Feeling dejected, but not all together surprised, I bite my lip and drop my phone onto my lap. Letting out a deep breath—the one I sucked in before the call—I bang my head twice onto my headboard, letting my frustration out in the two small smacks.

He answered, just to hang up. He didn’t talk to me, didn’t let me speak, but he still picked up in the beginning.

That must say something. Right?

He could have let my call go to voicemail. Could have just rejected it the second he saw an unknown number pop up on his screen. But no, it almost sounded like he was expecting me to call. Levi doesn’t seem like the kind of person to answer the phone for just anyone, so the fact that he answered a random number, made me feel better.

Now he has my number. Now he knows that’s me.

So I guess calling him, then having him hang up had one good outcome.

Or maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe I am.

God I hope I’m not.

Clicking my tongue at my annoying conflicting thoughts, I quickly text Mom, telling her I finally have work, and get my ass off the bed. I make quick work of running a brush through my hair and splashing water onto my face in the bathroom. It’s while I’m drying off my face with a towel, I look into the mirror and connect eyes with myself.

Green and gold. Eren’s ghost swimming in the green sea orb and the reminding presence of myself, drowning in golden fields.

Still looking in the mirror, I slowly close my right eye, leaving my green one on display. Lifting a hand to my hair, I push back my thick bangs and show my face.

I look like Eren. Well, a winking Eren, but it’s him.

“How the hell did you get Levi to love you?” I find myself asking.

I don’t feel a response.

Sighing, I run downstairs and out to my car.

When I pull into an old parking lot behind the bookstore, I see Pixis leaning against the bricked wall, his long leg gracefully crossing the other, while he shoulders his weight onto the wall with one arm. His other arm is holding a silver flask that keeps connecting with his lips. It’s in this second, climbing out of my car and watching the old man that I realize the only reason Pixis would have called me now is because he’s drunk or he wants to be drunk. And soon.

Pixis’ old, wrinkles eyes light up considerably when he sees me. “Oh good! You’re here!”

Pixis pushed off the brick wall of the back of the bookstore and slightly sways on his feet. His leathered cheeks are flushed deeply and as I walk closer to him, I see his chest jumping lightly. I smirk softly, watching the old man hiccup.

“Good afternoon, sir,” I say lightly, a small smile on my cheeks. I can’t really help but laugh. I’ve never seen such an old man so drunk at 3:30 in the afternoon.

“Eren,” hiccup, “Jaeger.” He smiles widely at me, showing his surprisingly straight and perfect teeth. “Word through the grapevine is that you’re one of us!”

I flinch, the small smile leaving my face. Why is it everywhere I go, I’m always reminded of another life? Why is it so goddamn hard to accept that we live in the here and now? Can’t everyone focus on the good, a titan-free life than constantly bring it up?

“Tragically so, sir,” I answer borderline gloomily.

Pixis nods his head twice. “Tragically so it is. Even more tragic if you’re really not the old boy Jaeger. I would hate,” hiccup, hiccup, “to have an innocent boy like you to be exposed to so much catastrophe.”

“It gets better with age,” I lie.

Pixis chuckles lightly, “Like good wine.”

I can’t help but smile at the brain that seems to be drowning in booze in Pixis’ skull.

“I’m assuming, sir,” I begin lightly, stepping forward to grab lightly onto the older man’s arm because he’s swaying like a son of a bitch, “that you called me because you are unable to continue the job?”

He flashes his full set of teeth in a cheeky smile. “You’re a smart one, boy.”

I start to lead him into the building through, I’m assuming, the back door.

“You wanna know why I drink, Eren?”

“Why, sir?” I ask, pushing the door in and then being engulf into a thick bubble of alcohol scented conditioned air. It takes me three seconds to see an old brown leather couch pushed up against an adjacent wall. The cushions are cracked and sunken in, but I don’t really think the old man can handle walking all the way across the room to the four hard looking chairs surrounding an old wood table.

“I drink,” I softly help the old man place his ass firmly on the shitty couch, “because I can’t stop seeing it.”

Taking a seat next to the man, I turn my head to look at him and find him looking at the floor. A strong look is painted on his wrinkled face. His eyebrows are furrowed while I see a movement in his cheeks. Either he’s swishing his tongue back and forth or he’s biting his cheeks.

“It’s everywhere, Eren. This old brain of mine,” he chuckles sadly, raising his head to look at the ceiling. “I wake up and I just feel this pressure on my chest. It’s heavy, Eren. Goddamn it, Eren, it is so heavy. I can feel the walls around me.”

I nod, following his every word.

“The world is so cruel,” he continues, leaning back until his long legs are fully stretched. “How does any one of us deserve to remember this? Why are we forced to live under the shade of walls that are long crumbled and forgotten? I think because no one knows. You know that, boy? You ever look in a goddamn history back and see a section dedicated to those times? You ever read a single sentence about a titan? No. I sure haven’t. Trust me, I’ve looked.

“I’m positive the second the walls crumbled to the ground, every stitch of remembrance was long forgotten, and I think that pissed off the big man upstairs. There’s a reason we were all born again. There’s a reason my sweet wife, Carrie, was born again just to end up with my drunken butt. There’s a reason why you’re here while poor Levi is wandering around lost.”

My heart twists at the name.

“Our souls are old, Eren.” He turns his head to finally look at me, and as I gaze into his amber eyes, I see an untold amount of years that hold suffering, love, violence, happiness, and defeat. Eyes that have seen it all. Seen all the unfairness and ugliness.

But all the beauty as well.

“Your soul older than mine,” I say lightheartedly, sick and tired all of the depressing talk.

Pixis gazes lazily back at me for a while before smiling softly, his gray mustache curling upwards. “You’re right. Tragically.”

“Tragically.” I echo.

A bell that rings from the front door makes both of us turn our head towards the open door leading to the shop.

“Shit,” I hear Pixis mutter under his breath. He quickly turns to me. “Please tell this sad, pathetic old man that you have common knowledge of a cash register.”

I grin. “I do.” I worked at a craft store for about three weeks.

“Thank God.” Pixis rests his head on the back of the couch and closes his eyes. “I swear I’ll be sober next go around. Well, mostly sober.”

I rise to my feet, chuckling. Sucking in a deep breath, I make my way to the front shop.

I stop when I see two sets of eyes staring at me.

Two sets that are beautifully, painfully familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. I'm really really really sorry. I swear I didn't mean to not update for so long. I'll try my very best with future updates. 
> 
> I love you all. Thank you for clicking this story and reading to this point. I cannot express how much each comment and kudo means to me. Thank you thank you thank you.
> 
> follow me on tumblr is you want! greeneyedskank.tumblr.com ^.^


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh... that's right... I'm writing a story... *hides*

For a second, I have nothing to say. The words of welcome I had for the incoming customer long forgotten, replaced by crushing thoughts and lights of emotions that twist and curl in my lower stomach. It seems I’m not the only one feeling the stressed colored air, because in front of me, Levi and Erwin stand, both looking a different form of caught off guard.

Of course, Erwin’s the one to shatter the thin silence. “Well, hello, Eren.”

Stormy gray eyes pierce into mine, stinging my brain with thousands of tiny ice needles. His gaze is so powerful, so strong. I can’t help but feel weak and tongue-tied in front of him. He takes my breath away, in the best and worst possible way. Every time I look into his eyes, I forget how solid they are, I forget what they do to me. What they’ve always done to me. In my memories and in Eren’s.

I’m a fool for him.

Or maybe I’m just a fool.

It takes a great amount of strength for my eyes to leave Levi’s face because, I swear on my life, I think I see a light pink dusting on his sharp cheeks. Plastering a smile on my face, I turn to Erwin.

“Mr. Smith and Mr. Ackerman, is there anyway I can help you?” I try to keep my voice in check. But it’s fairly obvious that I’m nervous. Nervous and confused. I’m confused as to why they are here. Together.

Was I the reason Levi didn’t want to talk to me earlier on the phone, or Erwin?

A small heat forms in my stomach.

The smile Erwin gives me is a soft one. A pitying one. “There’s no need to be so formal here.”

Looking away, I feel a blush creep up. “Just doing my job, sir.”

“You work here now?” Levi speaks up. I can still feel his eyes on me.

“Yes, sir.” I answer, feeling all the bravery and wit I felt earlier in his classroom evaporate. Is it because Erwin is here? Is it because I just somehow know Erwin knows everything that is going on between me and the older man?

The thought of him knowing makes me want to vomit.

“Tch. Now you fucking call me sir?” Levi asks. Though his words are harsh, the usual bite I would expect isn’t there.

“We are looking for Pixis, actually.” Erwin speaks up before I can retort. My gaze, again, falls on Erwin. Only to catch him glancing at Levi quickly.

Suddenly Jean’s answer when I asked him if Levi and Erwin were together echoed off in my head. _That’s always been a mystery, Jaeger._

The hot feeling in my gut raises.

Putting on a pinched smile and turning back toward the door to the backroom, I call out to the drunk man. “Mr. Dot, Mr. Smith and Mr. Ackerman are here to see you.”

“Goddamn it, Eren! Didn’t I tell you to just call me Pixis?” A slurred voice roars back.

“No, sir.” I answer.

“Well, now I am, damn it.”

I turn back to the two men who both are looking at me, but each one wearing a different expression. “He’s drunk. But still functioning.”

“Damn it, Dot.” Levi hisses through his teeth.

His eyes still haven’t left me.

“You can join us, if you want, Eren. It’s nothing really secretive.” Erwin offers politely. But I can see through it.

Shaking my head, I answer while walking around the pair to get to the front desk where an old stack of books are collecting dust. “No thanks. I should probably get to work.”

“Jaeger, maybe you should join—,” Levi begins, but something bubbles up inside me. A feeling of anger I didn’t know I had. Or a feeling I’ve always known was there, but never really wanted to acknowledge.

Jealousy. In the rawest form.

“It’s Eren. And I said no thanks.” I snap.

In the back of my head, behind a stone wall, I feel a whisper of the emotion shock. That makes me roll my eyes inwardly. Of course, even after many attempts by myself, Eren decides to show his presence when Levi’s around. It can’t ever just be me and Eren. It can’t ever just be me and Levi.

It’s in that second, I realize, I’m alone.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Levi snaps back. I hear a floorboard creak, and my back erupts in tingles. Levi’s standing behind, and burning a hole in my skin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Ackerman.” I reply sarcastically.

It seems Levi can never make time for me. Never just for me. The more that I think about, maybe he’s right. Am I just a stranger to him? I don’t think he’s a stranger to me, but what if he is? I bite my lip as I recall certain flashes of memories that grab ahold of my heart. My throat closes when I blink and see Levi’s flushed face painted on my eyelids. I remember all my memories.

My skin crawls.

That’s right. They’re not my memories.

I really am a fool.

“Go on without me, Erwin. I need to talk to this disrespectful brat.” Levi growls, still standing closely behind me.

I grab the books off the desk, feeling the weight of them fall into my hands. The covers are covered in dust, but the relaxing smell of old pages drifts up to my nose and it calms me a bit. Turning away from the presence behind me, I set out to place each book in its rightful section. I don’t know where the romance section is, and I don’t know where the horror bookshelf is, but I’ll find it. I’ll find the answer.

I’ll always find an answer, and the best way I know how. By myself.

It’s when I find the horror section that I hear the floorboards creak under a great amount of weight, then the clicking of a closing door. Muffled voices sound from the back room, but I pay no attention. I try not to pay attention to the man who is still out front with me, and who’s stilling burning my skin with his eyes.

With a gentle hand, I move aside a few books that are collecting dust on the shelves, to place the books I have in my hands in place. My heart is beating loudly, and with all my prayers, I hope Levi can’t hear it.

Is he out here to tell me that we’re never going to happen?

Can he not overlook the past and see the man I am? The man who wants to cherish him. Because that is what I want to do. I want to hold his face while I whisper to him. I want to feel his bare skin pressed against mine. I want pour my heart to him, and know that he’ll be there to carry every drop.

I want him to want me, and not the boy who haunts both of our lives.

But I know, now, that that probably will never happen.

It’s funny. I thought I would be devastated when I would come to learn I could never have him. The thought of losing him, losing his memory, has kept me up for hours on end, forcing my eyelids to stay light as I ponder the thought of his rejection. I knew it would be sad. I knew it would be like having my chest ripped open and my heart being pulled out, but I never expecting this calmness. This realization.

If Levi rejects me, I can reject Eren and finally have my own life.

The thought of just being me scares me, but it’s liberating at the same time.

“Eren.” A familiar voice whispers. What isn’t familiar is the tone, or the name that’s spoken.

My jaw clenches, and my nostrils flare. I can’t look at him. Because I know this is it. I gave him a choice, and he’s picking against me.

I don’t want this. But maybe I need this.

“Eren, please look at me.” His voice is still gentle, it breaks my heart.

I shake my head and stare down at the spines of the dusty books. Behind me, the telltale sound of creaking floorboards tell me he’s walking. Moving closer to where I stand rigid. Holding my breath, I slowly count down from ten, vaguely recalling the calming down method I learned in my many sessions of therapy.

The therapy I had to go to because of everything I’ve had to fucking go through because of Eren.

Eren is practically ruining my life. But I can’t bring myself to hate him. He doesn’t deserve hate. He doesn’t deserve his painful memories. And I guess, I sadly note, he doesn’t deserve to see someone else try and steal his love away.

_Eren. Stop it._

His voice rings loudly in my ears. A voice that’s mine, but holds emotions I haven’t felt yet. Emotions I’ll probably never feel. And I’m glad. I don’t want to experience the things he has, the pain, the loss, the bloodlust.

_The love._

Shaking my head, I answer both Eren and Levi.

I can’t do this anymore.

“Eren, please. Don’t shut me out.” He’s right behind me. When he brings his hand to rest on my shoulder, I flinch.

His hand is warm. Unsettlingly warm.

“You shut me out.” I answer back breathlessly.

Levi swallows thickly, I can hear it. His hesitation.

“I know. But… I’m trying.” He says slowly, and with caution, like he’s talking to a rapid animal.

Bringing my hands together, I pinch at one of my palms. His body is standing way to close to mine, and my body is reacting. It’s on high alert and excited. My heart is beating quickly, my hands are growing slick with sweat. But my mind is dull. Dead.

“Are you trying because you want to be with me… or Eren?”

Levi’s hand drops from my shoulder. My eyes water. I already miss that simple touch. But then again, his touch is anything but simple.

It’s my life, and I’m throwing it away.

His answer only makes my eyes water more and my breath hitch. “I don’t know.”

I bite my lip to keep from screaming.

“But I thought about what you said. When you told me I’m still kind of him. The Corporal. How I have his—my—memories and emotions. How I… loved Eren.” His voice trembles. I tremble more. “And, I do. I love Eren. I’ve loved him for so long… but this is where I tell you the difference between me now and me then. I would have never admitted that. I would have never said those words. To anyone, especially Eren. Here, now, I can say those words. It’s hard, but I can still do it. I’m growing, Eren. I’m still learning. From what I’ve learned in this age, and from what I’ve learned when I was killing titans.”

Suddenly a hand roughly grabs my elbow and pulls. Before I know it, my back is being uncomfortably pressing against the books. My eyes quickly find Levi’s, because that’s the most natural thing for me to do, and what I see shocks me.

I’ve never seen Levi’s eyes so sober. So open and honest. The daylight that’s streaming in from the front window hits the unshed tears in Levi’s eyes. His hand is still on my elbow, and he squeezes pressure onto my arm. I’m kind of glad he’s squeezes enough to where it kind of hurts, because without that hold, without Levi’s hold on me, I probably would have died.

I’ve never seen Levi like this.

“There’s a shitty part of me, a truly terrible part that wants to totally discard you completely. Not just you, but Eren. I’ve been living comfortably without you. I made a life for myself, I was happy without seeing your face and hearing your voice. I’ve grown to live without you. And it’s when I finally accept the fact that I would never see you again, that I find you at the front of the school, diving head first like an idiot to save my boxes. I was so fucking stunned, that I did the first thing I could think of, and that’s insult you.

“And that’s what I’ve always done. I deflect negativity onto others to avoid what I want to be addressed. And holy shit, I wanted to just… just… _ravish_ you in front of the school that day. What was even better,” Levi’s hand reaches up and his thumb strokes my skin. The skin under my gold eye, “is that you’re more beautiful than you were. Your eyes hit me. They’re beautiful, but they make me sick. One is you, and the other is my brat.

“But goddamn it, if you’re not persistent. I thought you hated me for what happened here the first time, but Eren came you. _You_ came back. On your own free will, and with the right words to say to deflect my deflected negativity. Today, you cut through me like a knife…”

I can’t breathe. My head feels really light and dizzy, and tears are dancing on the edge of my vision, but I can’t look away. Not when Levi is saying this. Not when the man I was about to give up on is so close to sounding like he’s gonna accept me.

God, pray, I hope he lets me in. Can he not see I need him?

Levi continues, looking blown out and wrecked, but not seeming to give a damn. “And you know what, Jaeger… Eren? I’m tired of denying myself what I want. I’ve wanted Eren the moment I saw you. I still wanted Eren the second I learned you aren’t him, and I still want him now…” His thumb slowly caressing my skin, wiping the tear the drips from my eye. “But now, all afternoon, I’ve been thinking of _you._ ”

My eyes widen.

Levi chuckles dryly. “You know, you’re not so different from the brat. You’re a brat, too. But there’s something about you that comforts me. Maybe it’s because you’re so much like Eren. You push like him, but you know how to do it the right way.” His lips pull up slightly. “I talked with Erwin about it this afternoon, needing some kind of fucking advice and he told me something that just did it for me. That smart fucker, he told me to quit you. He said that knowing I can’t do that.

“The second you dove for my boxes, you became mine again. You,” he steps closer to emphasize his point. His breath dusts over my face. He’s beautiful.

“All of you, Eren,” Levi speaks, softly and a bit hesitant. “That is… if you’ll still have this giant asshole.”

The world has color again. I can breathe, but it hurts. The pressure in my heart is the only thing that’s reminding me this isn’t a dream.

It is so like this asshole to do a one-eighty right when I’ve given up on him.

And he wants me! A sob catches in my throat, but I mask it with a smiley hiccup.

I’m about to reply yes, _yes, yes, yes I love you, Levi!_ When a voice stops me.

_Eren… there’s one last thing you should know._

That’s when a sharp pain rockets through my temples.

“Ah!” I yelp, the pain in my head so intense I ungracefully sink to one knee. In his shock, Levi follows me down, his eyes widening.

“Eren? Are you okay? Eren?”

I hear him, but I don’t see him.

In fact, I don’t see the bookstore at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Pokes head around the corner*
> 
> Hello everyone. I thought I'd give a new chapter for a Christmas present.
> 
> IM SO SORRY. I AM SHIT AND I DONT DESERVE EREN OR LEVI. God I can't believe I haven't updated since now. I am trash I tell you. But I'm home from college for two and a half more weeks and I'm hoping on my soul a new update with be up soon because I'm actually kinda excited to write the next chapter.
> 
> Also, thank my boyfriend for the update because he's reading this and he loves it and he threatened me to update it.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed Levi's declaration of love!


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